The Prodigy
by CallMehTehOdd1
Summary: Vergil wanted a prodigy. He never could stand babies, so he took one. Now she's fiffteen, and he's kicking her out to the person she loathes the most: Dante. HIATUS. Sorry :
1. Victory

**Hope you enjoy!  
These characters do not belong to me, not matter how much pocket money I offer Capcom. On a brighter note, Dante is a sexy beast, and Vergil is totally bang-able.**

**Ciao! TehOdd1 xoox**

Gritting my teeth against the pain in my chest, I ducked and lunged at my Master's sword.

He was panting- a rarity in itself, and his footwork was becoming sloppy.

I thought I was going to win. I felt it in the air, in his strikes, in my sweat. I was gonna win.

I slashed and took a calculated step forward, before jumping back and deflecting a blow that might've rendered me helpless a few years ago.

Pushing against his un natural strength, the sweat on my forehead slipped down my face and I let out a little grunt of frustration when he didn't budge.

"Come now, Rachel." Master Vergil panted quietly. "You know better than to use strength against me."

I growled and sliced down at his hand - hoping he'd drop the sword.

He didn't, and it was a lowly move on my part, but I was annoyed as all hell and I wasn't going to lose again.

I brought the sword up, and struck down, only to have it clash with his.

My arms vibrated violently. Every inch of me was burning, aching, to stop. To admit defeat. But I would not. Not when I was _this close_ to winning.

"Give up." he said, pushing me back.

I stumbled over my shaking knees, honestly exhausted, but took a deep breath and spat through my teeth : "Never."

I lunged again, feigning a strike to the right, then feigning left, then finally ducking and collecting his feet from underneath him with a kick.

He took the fall gracefully, landing on his back. How someone can actually fall gracefully, I'll never know. He just did it.

I held the sword to his throat and ripping the mask off my head, sweaty and flushed, but smirking in victory.

"Admit defeat." I panted.

His very rare smirk settled into place. A single piece of hair fell onto his forehead, sticking to the skin and he sat up a little.

"Would you really kill me, Rachel?" he mused, pushing his throat into the blade. A little blood slipped down his throat, and dropped onto the floor.

I backed up a little, then held steady.

"The situation?" I asked, still panting hard.

"Right now. If I were to pose a threat to you, would you kill me?"

"Would you kill me, Master Vergil?" I panted, raising an eyebrow. "Honestly?"

I knew he would be honest - we had no secrets. I told him when I needed to fight my anger away, and he would help me; so long as I told him , or clued him in if I was hurt in the process. He thought me fragile, and I hated it. Hated it with a fiery passion with the depths of hell.

"The situation?" he prodded dryly. I saw his hand twitch for his blade and on impulse kicked it away - when suddenly the world was spinning and I was flat on my back, with my Master's foot on my armed hand, smirking down his nose at me.

The breath was knocked from my lungs- I struggled not to choke on my tongue.

"I... Want marriage." I coughed, sitting up slightly and tugging my armed hand. "And you refuse him my hand."

He looked amused, raising his eyebrow.

Twisting his heel on my wrist, I slammed my teeth shut over a scream and glared up at him. A muscle under my right eye twitched.

"We both know you would just marry him, if you wanted it." he smirked. "If you _really_ wanted him."

I snorted. Fair enough. "Okay...I'm pregnant!" I hissed as he stomped on my forearm.

I lifted a leg and swept it around, which he jumped over but left my hand briefly, which I scooped up to my chest- leaving my weapon behind.

"And you refuse to let me have the baby."

He grimaced.

"Heaven forbid you do get pregnant," he began morbidly.

I bit my tongue and lashed out, seeking to punch him in the face but having him deflect it, I lifted a leg to kick him in the chest but he took my ankle and squeezed it (gently for him I'm sure), to which it cracked painfully.

I fell to the floor, then turned and dived after my sword.

I it swung at him, relishing the feeling of the metal beneath my palm. I was empowered. I could win this.

"Then I would advise you not to have-" he ducked under my blade then sent an uppercut punch into my jaw, sending me flying back. I felt the side of my head collide with the brick wall - which hurt a helluva lot, let me tell you - and my internal organs slam against my ribs, which were half imbedded in the wall.

I slid downwards, seeing my blood paint the bricks ruby red, then collected myself, hurting and bleeding and-

"-the child, unless the father of which agreed to help you out-"

"I don't need help!" I spat, spitting blood. I lunged again, then dropped to my knees, sliding across the floor and cutting open the back of his knees.

He gave a small, impressed 'Oh', then fell backwards, to which I had him pinned under my sword for the second time that night.

I panted, half doubled over, with a split lip, throbbing ankle, a wrist screaming bloody murder, my ribs aching - almost like my lungs were bruised - and my head spinning.

"Give." I half choked.

He smirked.

"I suppose I could kill you, if I really had to." he mused aloud. "It seems you are getting better with your sword, and if you should lose your temper I might just have to fight for my life."

His smirk widened.

"I give."

I blanched.

"What?"

"Pardon," he corrected calmly. "And I said, 'I give'."

I blinked stupidly for a second, my spinning head not calculating properly, then grinned. "I win?"

"Yes, Rachel." he sighed, getting up. "You win."

I punched my hand into the air, dropping my sword, whopping for joy, when my throbbing ankle complained and I stumbled into a wall.

It didn't help the room was going fuzzy, either.

"Are you alright?" he was at my side momentarily. "Did I-?"

"Drunk on victory!" I grinned up at him, hoping he didn't notice just how tightly my hands were clenched into fists. I sheathed my sword, strapped to my back, wincing as my shoulder hurt.

He raised an un-amused eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.

"And when I tell you that you are to walk home...?"

I felt myself pale, and cleared my throat, looking around awkwardly.

"I'll..." I paused, trying to weasel my way out of his accusation. "Challenge you to a re-match?"

He shook his head.

"Where does it hurt, Rachel?"

"I'm not hurt." I replied, putting some weight on my sore ankle, and crossing my screaming wrist under my arm.

His eyes narrowed and I fought very hard not to wince.

"You _do_ know I will get it out of you." he said dangerously.

"There's nothing to 'get'." I made quotation marks in the air with my not sore hand- his pale one snatched my sore wrist in an instant.

He squeezed, and pain shot up my arm so fast and so bad I fell to my knees, wincing.

"Nothing, eh?"

"No." I replied through gritted teeth. Blood trickled down my chin.

He frowned.

"Your lip is swelling rather rapidly." he said calmly. His deadly 'I'm-going-to-hurt-you-soon' calm.

"It's just a bruise." I winced and fought back against a scream as he twisted my arm- a small yelp left my lips.

"You have a rather large bump on your head. You might be concussed."

"'Might', being the operative word." I wheezed.

He sighed, and picked me up, holding me to his chest like I weighed nothing.

"Master-Vergil-!"

I struggled in his grip half heartedly- I was grateful he could carry me up the stairs.

"Rachel." he warned in his 'I-will-seriously-leave-you-down-here' voice. Yes. He had those kinds of voices. Speaking from years of experience, I stopped struggling, cradled my hand to my chest and huffed my displeasure.

Something in my ribs cracked.

I winced again, my jaw dropping open and letting out a small groan.

"What did I do?" he asked coolly, after he had kicked the door open and locked it again.

He crossed the paddock, frowning at the flies and mozzies that attacked us, and when he approached the car, repeated his question.

"You didn't do anything," I replied, inspecting my wrist, "I was stupid an I twisted my ankle. Then I ran into a door and whilst I was falling hurt my wrist, too."

He scowled at me, putting me in the passenger's side and buckling me up.

"I can do my own belt up, thanks!" I called as he closed the door.

My Master had a way with swords- and a fantastic taste in cars.

We were riding in a schick car, that he had built by hand in 1964. The best parts of the best cars, in black. He called it his 'Chariot'; I loved this car.

I manuvered my shirt out of the harness that strapped my sword to my back , spitting into my flimsy tee as Master Vergil got in the car and gunned it down the road.

I had several nicks and cuts on my arms, from close calls with the katana. Most stung, but not as much as when I would have to limp up to the shower and wash them.

I bled into my shirt instead of the seat. I was inheriting this car when he died...If he died. I think he's invincible, actually.

Master Vergil's eyes left the road for a second, checking over me, then he slammed on the breaks and practically tore my arms off my torso to look at the bruising on my side and back.

"Rachel." he growled, turning me to face him.

I tried to be impassive, but I never did perfect his poker face. Well, I did, but that was reserved for very important things when I wasn't in so much pain. I sighed, and winced as his nails dug into my shoulders.

"What?"

"When," he demanded coldly. "did they get there?"

I shrugged but winced again.

"A few days ago." I tried to look into his face but I felt so bad I looked out the window.

"I told you," he seethed, practically throwing me back in the seat, resulting in my head slamming against the window.

"I have one rule!" he roared, gunning the engine and throwing it into gear.

Actually, he had all sorts of rules. Like, you must take your shoes off when you go upstairs or on any carpeted areas. You may only watch the T.V for two hours a day, the other five hours you aren't at school, you must dedicate yourself to training or homework. Your training must be carried out in a fashion that works every bone and muscle in your body. I won't have you any more breakable than you are now. When watching T.V, you may not watch stupid cartoons but documentaries. (Even then I shall annoy you about it.) But I wasn't about to tell him that.

"You tell me when I hurt you, Rachel. You have to tell me! I'm not a psychic, I'm half demon!" He lectured, hands disfiguring the wheel as he gripped it.

"Easy on the wheel, Master, I can't fix the un-fixable-"

"What if I broke something?" he continued as if I had never spoken. "Stupid, insignificant human, you are FRAGILE TO ME!"

His eyes were burning, as he sped down the makeshift road to our house. Dirt was creating such a big cloud around our car, I couldn't see two feet in front of me.

We lived on two acres of land, with sixteen and seventeen acres on either side. My Master liked his space and privacy.

"No more sparring!" he bit out, his top lip curling up.

"What?" I arked up, sitting up from my slouched, 'yes-I'm-going-to-accept-this-quietly' demeanour. "You can't do that!"

"Yes I can." he spoke through gritted teeth.

"The whole point of you keeping me alive is to train me! To pass on your legacy!"

"I'm not going to kill my own apprentice!" he snarled, eyes flashing. "I have worked far too hard to ensure you stay alive."

"You won't!" I groaned, running a hand over my face. Apparently I had a good few cuts there too, because they stung something chronic. "I'm tougher than you give me credit for, Master, and you know I'm tougher than just a mere human!"

"You don't heal like a demon, Rachel. You don't possess the speed, or the strength. So be. Silent." he said dangerously.

"I didn't mean like that." I hissed, as he went over a bump and upset my ribs. "You said it yourself, I'm getting better with the sword?" I wheezed angrily.

He nodded once, sharply. We both thought it better if he said little right now.

"And when have you ever let 'just a human' beat you? Never! So I am alot tougher than any other human!" I finished triumphantly.

He considered this, slowing his speed down to park at the back of our house.

Calmly, he got out of the car, opened my door, un-did my seat belt and stepped back.

"Walk." he commanded.

I eyed the space from the car to the back door - he had parked further away than normal. He always tested me like this. God, I hated it so much.

I glared up at him, narrowing my eyes. "You don't think I can make that?" I said dangerously, gritting my teeth.

"I know you can't make that." he said calmly, smoothing the front of his jacket out.

I turned a little too sharply and heard something click in my neck - which means if I heard it, he defenetly did.

"Fine."

"Go ahead."

"I will." I said sourly, picking my legs up and throwing them out the door like they were numb.

Which, unfortunately for me, they were not.

I bit the inside of my lips and groped the seat, squeezing my eyes shut as pain induced spots popped into my vision. Panting a little, I stood, half doubled over, leaning on the car for support. I watched my feet the entire, gruelling process of walking around the car to get to the other side, sliding along the bonnet for aid.

Master Vergil took a step every time I did. He seemed to be in no hurry, watching my every move like a hawk.

I looked at the space between the house and me, and half snarled my frustration.

Normally, it would've been about thirty steps to walk.

Now, it would be sixty limps of fire shooting up my leg. And I didn't think that my head would last that long either.

"Are you watching the grass grow," he taunted, stepping up to my side, "Or are you thinking of asking me for help?"

"I'm watching the grass." I said coldly, shooting him a look. "It's ever _so_ much fun, care to join me?"

"I'll have to." he replied just as coldly. "I'm waiting for you, I might as well be waiting for-"

I took a step before he finished, pushing myself off from the car defiantly.

Good. I was doing good.

For a second I turned, giving him a totally deserved grin, and grunted as I swayed. He tried to grab my arm but I wrenched it away, narrowing my eyes at him.

"I can do it myself." I said, swallowing the bile on my tongue. I felt so exhausted and sick, it wasn't even funny.

He kinda shrugged one shoulder, and retracted his hand. "Suit yourself."

I took another agonising step, then another, then another.

Panting, I doubled up, feeling my abs twitch and shoulder throb, spitting out cusses into the floor.

"Must you be so vulgar?"

"Must you...Stink?" I tried, shooting a glare at him. "Yeah. I went there, fool."

He smirked, and folded his arms across his chest, raising a very 'Intrigued-but-still-mad' eyebrow.

"Shut up." I sighed.

"I didn't say-"

I took a step but half collapsed, grunting between clenched teeth slightly.

My Master fell to his knees and had my arm around his shoulders in seconds. I didn't even see him move.

"Fine." I said through gritted teeth.

He held a finger to his lips, his eyes trained on the house, which currently stood only a few steps away. I had done well, to get where I was now.

There was someone in our house, I could see the silhouetted shadows moving around.

It didn't bother me at all that someone was in the house.

It bothered me that someone was in_ my _house. And that they had gotten past the varied traps and spells my Master and I slaved away at installing.

They must be demons.

Oh joy. My first un-planned, un-backed encounter.

Whilst mortally wounded.

Lovely.*

*please note: _heavy_ sarcasm.


	2. Brass Lamp

**Hope you enjoy!  
These characters do not belong to me, just Capcom. But I can make them do things, and I enjoy doing it, so *raspberry*.**

**I claim Rachel, though if you want to use her be my guest. Show me what choo got!**

**I apologise for the epic longness of this chapter, but I edited it and got it as short as possible. **

**Ciao! TehOdd1 xoox**

_**Recap:**_

He held a finger to his lips, his eyes trained on the house, which currently stood only a few steps away. I had done well, to get where I was now.

There was someone in our house, I could see the silhouetted shadows moving around.

It didn't bother me at all that someone was in the house.

It bothered me that someone was in_ my _house. And that they had gotten past the varied traps and spells my Master and I slaved away at installing.

They must be demons.

Oh joy. My first un-planned, un-backed encounter.

Whilst mortally wounded.

Lovely.*

*please note: _heavy_ sarcasm.

* * *

"Two. Both male. Six foot and five ten. I'll take the shorter one." I murmured, as my Master nodded briskly and stood me up. In one jump, he had transported me to the front door, then jumped away to the side of the house where I had seen the taller of the two standing.

I opened the door silently, and drew my sword just as quietly. I caught sight of my Master's shadow moving in front of me, his sword casting a shadow on the wall.

I found the intruder - a young looking boy with a red hoodie and blue jacket. White hair, blue-green eyes. Easy done. I almost whished I had been hurt a little more for the challenge.

The boy poked around our coffee table, snorting at something he'd found.

I glared at the back of his head.

I jumped, slashing my sword down with a little grunt of frustration due to my multiple injures. He turned, and tried to attack with his own sword. I deflected the blow, landed on my knees, skidded, and took out his knees. Yes - this was my move, it worked, and I was proud of it.

Problem?

He fell with a surprised look on his face. I pounced and held my sword to his throat, upper lip drawn back in a sneer.

"You make one noise out of turn and I will take your head off." I growled lowly, barely an inch from his face.

He smirked, then picked me up with one, glowing, demonic arm. I growled - he _had_ held my bruised ribs - and punched him in the face. He rolled, pinning me with my hands above my head, and poked his tongue out.

I grinned, reached up and flicked his tongue with my own - he recoiled, so I pushed him up and over and stabbed his hoodie into the floor.

"Now be quiet whilst my Master takes care of your counter part." I said, looking up and around.

God, my ribs were throbbing, my breath coming out in wheezes and gasps. My injured hand was screaming in protest as I held the front of his jacket down.

He made an impatient noise, and I sneered, slamming his head into the floor.

Ow. That looked painful.

"I said be quiet!" I growled, narrowing my eyes at him. I leaned forward, nose to nose. "Or did I hit you too hard?"

He smirked.

Someone picked me up by the scruff of the neck - I turned and stabbed him through the stomach as fast as I could, and stuck my sword in the wall.

I blinked.

"Oops. Forgive me, Master, I thought you were..." I trailed off, and frowned a little, half doubled over and holding my ribs.

"You...Don't wear red." I said slowly, watching his face warp into a grin.

I'd never seen my Master grin before. I have to say, I was rather shocked. Stunned.

He was beautiful.

"Nah, he doesn't." the man said, prying himself from the wall. "But he can't pull it off like I can, can he?"

I nodded dumbly. "I-....What...?"

Before anything could happen, though, I heard the very air behind me bend and turn sharply, managing to land a kick across the boy's face, succeeding not only in breaking his nose, but making him fall to the floor.

"Rachel. Enough."

"He tried to-"

"I said enough."

The kid stood up, and tried to advance, but I lifted my foot and kicked him under the chin, sending a shooting pain up my leg and in my spine.

"You_ bitch_!" he shouted into his hands. He lifted his head, wiping away the blood on his top lip, and puffed out his chest.

"Bring it on!" I snarled.

"Rachel! I said-!"

The kid tackled me, and we crashed through a wall, me landing on my back and him on top of me.

"You arrogant-!" I tried to punch him but he caught my fist, a bit of his blood dripping onto my forehead.

"Rachel!"

"Ah, dun worry, Verge." snickered the dead set look a like. "Let 'em fight it out."

"She's injured, Dante." drawled my Master.

The kid barked out a laugh and looked smug. "I got you now, you stupid midget."

I was weak, very, very weak. Strength wouldn't work against my Master, I was used to that. So I did the most logical thing that came into my head.

I puckered my lips, and kissed him full on the mouth.

He jerked back, eyes going wide.

I smirked into his mouth, changing the angle of my kiss. My eyes closed, because I was going cross eyed, and kneed him in the stomach, flipping him over.

I pulled back and smirked evilly, touching my nose to his.

"I got you now, you effing retard." I said under my breath.

He blinked.

"And that's the way I taught you to fight?" Master Vergil said coldly, picking me up by the scruff of my shirt. "By wooing the enemy? I don't remember you ever attempting to woo me."

"Would you like me too?"

The words were out of my mouth before I could even think of what I was implying. The red trenched man, from out of no where, laughed. Loudly.

I believe my expression was as such, only redder: 0.0

If my Master was the type to roll his eyes, he would've. He closed his lids briefly, inhaling, then opened his eyes again and dropped me onto the floor.

I cried out in pain and fell to my knees, but he caught me before I actually hit the floor.

"What is it?" His voice was intense, and quiet, keeping his poker face on whilst we had company.

"You have a freakin' twin!" I wheezed, grabbing madly at my ribs.

"That language is certainly not becoming of you."

"But very necessary." I pointed out.

He lifted me, effortlessly, like he always does, and I threw my head back screwing my eyes closed to catch any tears that might've been there.

"What. Hurts. Rachel?"

"Nothing."

His jaw tightened and the vein in his head popped out a little.

This was the vein that said 'You are pushing your luck and I'm going to try and be patient but if you don't do as I ask/tell me what's wrong/get out of my way or leave me alone, I'm going to kick your butt and not talk to you for two weeks'. Yeah. He has a vein like that. Located just beneath his hair line. XD.

My hair was matted down on my forehead with sweat. I pushed it away and out of my face as my Master began to walk, feeling the massive lump from being thrown into a wall.

"Damn," I muttered. "How did I not feel that?"

Master Vergil called for our Spanish helper, Mirabel Soto, to down stairs. She was a very tiny lady- about twenty eight, with black wiry hair and dark skin. Skinny, short and frail looking. But I'd seen her backhand a man for hitting on her, and well. I was surprised such small arms could leave such a big welt. I was impressed.

"Aye, mistress Rachel, what did you let him do now?"

I snorted.

"Are you under the impression that my caring and adoring Master would beat me up, Mira?"

She shook her head and sighed. "You just let him 'teach' you these things," she said airily. "And I know you enjoy them." she sighed again.

"I'll go get the medical supplies." she turned and nodded to Master Vergil, who regarded her with a small nod of his own and a few murmured words. They didn't really talk much.

The red dude - there really was no other name for him other than 'The Twin', which to me sounded diabolical - and the other one - Santa's Little Helper - had followed us in after sharing a few heated words. Couldn't catch 'em though, I was too busy hurting.

"You broke my wall." he noted dully. " And I hate to point out that the one time you get stuck beneath an opponent of the opposing sex, you use your tongue as a weapon, Rachel." Leaning calmly against our fireplace. He was so cool like that.

"Hey, girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do."

He ignored the jibe as easily as what I was ignoring the other people in the room.

"We need to talk." he said in a quiet, almost too calm voice.

I freaked. "Oh God, you aren't dying are you?!"

Normally I would've been calm, and collected. But I loved my Master, despite how much he scared me. I didn't want him going any where any time soon. He was all I had; the only family I had known- so I accepted his affections as rare as they came and cherished my time with him.

He shook his head, his rare smirk gracing his lips.

I sighed in relief. "Well that's good to know."

He still looked uneasy. To the human and unaccustomed eye, I would suppose he looked blank. But to me, who had lived with him since I was four, knew how uneasy that look was.

"Uhm..." I blushed. "I know about the birds and the bees, Master."

Even rarer still, he snorted a chuckle and looked between his knees at the carpet.

"You know I'm not your uncle." he said slowly.

My heart beat sped up. Why was he looking so sober?

"Well, yeah, I guess I figured that one out." I said, a little smugly. "I mean, I don't have any of your traits, particularly of the physical appearance, I mean, I'd kill for those cheek bones."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"You should've assumed we would need a cover, especially with your schooling. Which didn't last long, as I now teach you myself."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes Master Vergil, whatever. Continue."

"I read your diary." he admitted carelessly.

I rolled my eyes. "I thought so. You brought me a box of tampons out of the blue." I grinned impishly at him, knowing my girly needs made him feel awkward.

"In your diary, you had a page, obviously torn out, ripped up and then stuck back in again."

I froze. _Oh god, no_...

"You... read it didn't you?" I asked quietly.

He nodded. "It was interesting seeing things from the perspective of a fifteen year old girl."

I swallowed the insults that were on my tongue and glared at the floor.

"And you wouldn't tell me when you were hurt." he said bluntly. "You never do."

"What am I supposed to say then?" I bit back, looking him dead in the eyes and straightening up. "Just rock up and say 'Oh, yeah, hi Master Vergil, hey, guess what? When we were sword fighting, you stabbed me pretty badly. I guess it kinda hurts. But it's okay I know you were just trying to teach me how to fight?!' or even better, "Sup Uncle Vee, you won't believe this! When we were beating the shit out of each other - no wait, it was just you beating me, because I'm a stupid insignificant human - you kinda made my ribs crack! Funny, ain't it!'" I yelled, standing and towering over him.

I was actually leaning on the couch for support, half cramping and doubled onto my side, but telling myself I was bigger than him made me feel better.

"On this certain page that had been so obviously hated and loved and worn, it had a few words I struggled to make out," he continued coolly, not caring of my outburst.

I sunk back into the couch, feeling weak and dizzy as all hell.

"Yes. I'm sure. But I suppose you were able to read it any way?" I asked boredly. I knew he had. I knew the page that he spoke of like the back of my hand.

"Yes. On this page, it said you longed for family, other than me. You wanted friends, and to have babies and grow as a normal, teenage girl-"

"For starters, I do not long for family, I don't want babies-" I began angrily.

He held up a finger, which silenced me.

_Are we having a heart to heart....?_

"You said you dreamt of meeting my family. Said that you saw us laughing, together. A family." he spoke now quietly, muted and muttering to himself.

"Yes," I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly. "I also said if I ever got my hands on him I'd kick his ass for leaving you. Where is this going, Master?"

My Master, some years ago now, fought his brother, who never understood his need for power. Never accepted him as a quiet, book loving child, and left him as soon as he hit sixteen, not only devastating my Master, but hardening his heart. After so many years of him taking care of his younger brother...He had left him with no thought to his feelings. He had dispatched of him as his deceased mother and father had.

He shifted, ever so slightly, uncomfterable in his seat.

"Just say it." I prompted.

He looked up at me then.

"He was my twin." he said calmly. "My exact replica, much to my distaste."

I raised my eyebrows. "Wow. Unknown and unexpected. At least he's good looking." I winked at him, smirking.

He smiled faintly, the more common and less surprising out of his smirk and his faint smile.

"After so many years of living with me," he drawled quietly, "You'd think you'd put you're mind to use." he sighed, looking at the Red Guy, who I'd also nicknamed The Twi-...

I swear my eye twitched.

I stared into the icy blue orbs of my Master, emotions roaring in my chest.

Anger, resentment, fear, confusion, angst, hurt...

I turned slowly in my seat, swallowing the sudden blockage in my throat and saw the icy blue orbs...of my Master's brother. The one who broke his heart.

_His hair is down_, I noticed blankly.

He looked intimidated. "Uhm...Hi. I'm Dante..."

I let a feral growl rush through my teeth before I could stop it.

Leaping to my feet, I backed away limping, slamming my back into a wall.

"Rachel, calm down." Master Vergil said blandly. "You're over reacting."

I struggled to calm my breathing, which hitched in my throat despite all my kick-ass facade.

"You..." I gasped, narrowing my eyes at him.

He stood awkwardly, sheepishly, even.

"I...You..." He did look exactly like my Master, but nothing like him at all.

"I can't believe you just rocked up!" I finally managed to stutter out. "A little warning, Master Verge? No! I just have to accept the exact freakin' replica of my Master standing before me! When did all this go down?"

"Enough with the language." Master Vergil started coldly. "And you respect your elders, Rachel."

I grit my teeth and looked down a little.

"I'm going for a walk."

"Rachel, you can't walk." reasoned my Master coolly, standing to help me back into my chair.

I half fell into his arms and half ran into the chair, trying to ignore the pain in my system.

"I could kick your ass." I muttered, looking at the man. The monster. The Twin. "I really could."

"I bet." he said loftily, shrugging.

"Rachel, stop swearing." Master Vergil clipped my ear coldly. In Latin, he added: "_And you keep in mind that Dante is as much your family as mine_."

I glared at my Master, narrowing my eyes and feeling my lips drawing into a straight line. "Yeah. _The one who left you alone_." I growled. "This asswhole abandoned you, I have a right to be pissed!"

"I didn't know," Dante started, arcing up slightly. "How was I supposed to care about something I didn't know about?! He's almost unreadable, and he told me he didn't want to take care of me-!"

"He says that to me all the time!" I snapped, baring my gritted teeth. "He is your brother, what gave you the right to leave him alone? Couldn't you suck it up?"

He faltered, visibly deflating. "Yeah, well, it's not like he let me in, I mean, he's obviously attached to you alot more than he ever was to me-"

"Did you ever have the patience to give him a chance?" I clutched the couch.

"Yeah-...Well, no...I shouldn't of had to..." he struggled with the words.

"Yeah. Right. So it's either you are to blame, or your temper tantrums are. The way my story goes is that he tried to tell you your girlfriend was a whore, and you accused him of trying to fill shoes far too big for him." I said, straining to be cool.

"I was young-"

"So was he." I said coldly, carelessly. "You were scared of his authority over you, say it."

"I'm not going to-"

"Don't lie to me!" I roared, getting to my feet. "You can storm into this house and you can stand there all loftily, Devil may care, but don't you lie to me. We don't have secrets here." I spat. "Just say it."

"I didn't like the authority." he said coldly. "There, happy?"

I relaxed and sat back down. "Yeah." I mumbled. "I'm good."

"Jeeze, Verge." he mumbled, beginning to pace. "You raised a crazy kid-"

Ignoring the pain that now shot through my entire system, I landed in front of him neatly and swung a fist - my sore, throbbing fist - into his face. I felt the cartilage smash between my knuckles which so satisfyingly good. I lifted my foot and round housed him in the head, pulling the muscle in my thigh but still not caring.

"You BASTARD!" I roared, hitting him again and again. "How DARE you?!"

I felt my Master's arms wrap around my torso and managed to get one good kick in on his head before I rounded on him.

"And YOU!" I screamed , going to punch him but having him dodge it.

_Shit_, I realised, _he knows my fighting style better than I do!_

"I would've TOLD YOU if I'd wanted to meet him!"

"I can see this has upset you. But it really wasn't your decision." he said calmly, catching my sore fist and squeezing it.

I didn't even try to hide the cuss words behind that.

"No, really? What gave me away? I'm PISSED." I growled, swinging my legs around behind his knees and tugging.

He dodged one, but not the other, and swayed - I knew his next move and tried to scramble away but he picked me up by the ankle- my not injured one- and held me upside down, swinging fist after fist after fist at his knee caps.

"Just be patient, Dante," he said coolly. "She'll calm down in a second."

"I WILL NOT!" I roared, striking his thigh. "STUPID BLOODY ASSWHOLE! I SWEAR TO GOD I'M GOING TO KICK SOMEONE'S ASS! LEMME GO!"

He sighed. "Or maybe until she tires. My bet is on the latter."

"YOU BET! I WON'T CALM DOWN!" I yelled defiantly, swinging another fist at his leg.

"Yeeeah."

I growled again and tried to sit up to claw his hand away from my ankle - but my ribs went spazmic and I gasped, almost screaming with the pain.

"Rachel?"

"Ribs." I wheezed.

My Master lay me out on the couch, which I tried to get up off again but fell, due to head spin.

"Oh God," I moaned, clutching my head. "The freaking couch is where the wall should be..."

"Geeze, what a drama queen.." mumbled Santa's Little Helper.

"Shuddup, dickless!" I snapped, glaring at him. "So help me I will twist your head off so fast-!"

Master Vergil tut tutted about my language, and prodded around on my ribs, causing me to shut my trap long enough to wince.

"What happened to her?" questioned Dante.

Master Vergil answered at the same time I did, though they were different answers.

"None of your God damn business!" and

"I'm what happened to her, Dante."

Can you guess which one was mine?

"Rachel," warned My Master.

"Don't even go there!" I panted, recoiling from his painful prodding. "I'll challenge you to a battle after I stop aching. Maybe a little before that, when I'm completely conscious."

"That's good to know." he replied calmly, putting something cold on my bruises.

I slammed my teeth together over a whimper and clutched the couch.

"Usually you just keep going until you collapse."

I snorted and tried to sit up, fighting the urge to leap at Dante again.

"Isn't that what I just did?" I asked bitterly.

I looked up at Dante, the blood on his top lip still there but nose perfectly healed.

"What do you mean, 'I happened', Verge?" he asked, kinda stunned.

"I was sparring with her." my Master explained coolly. "I've been teaching her to fight since she was old enough to lift a sword."

"Why?" breathed Dante, sitting in Master Vergil's seat.

Oh no he didn't. That was _Vergil's seat_. No one sat there but my Master.

"Because she is my legacy." he replied simply, raising my legs to sit under neath them.

"Legacy?" the guy repeated stupidly, blinking.

"Yes, legacy." I said shortly, wincing as my oh-so _gentle _Master prodded along my ankle. Which had swollen considerably larger than normal, almost doubling it's size.

"You know, because there wasn't a snowball's chance in Hell of him fallin' for some lady off the street long enough to pop out a couple brats."

The Evil Twin and Santa's Little Helper went silent, both of them surveying the scene.

"This is why girl's shouldn't fight." mumbled S.L.H. "They break so easily, and then whinge about it- WOAH!" he ducked, as I had hurled a brass lamp at his head, clipping his forehead and splitting the skin.

Evil Twin let out a low whistle. "Nice arm."

"What in the hell was that for?!" S.L.H yelled, clutching his head.

I shrugged. "I have anger issues. And I don't like you. Even if you're a good kisser."

The Kid's face went red, and he looked at The Evil Twin, glaring a hole into the side of his head.

The twin just grinned. "Nice."

CRACK.

"HOLY SHIT!"

"Rachel, please, contain yourself." Master Vergil snapped, squeezing the recently snapped-into-place ankle.

"Well you could've given me a heads up, geeze."

"You were annoying me with petty swears. It's the only way I can think of to shut you up."

I rotated my ankle around, looking for any sign that he'd done it wrong.

"Damn. That hurt more than last time."

"Last time it was your little finger, and you were half conscious."

I tried to remember. "I...Can't remember. But then again, being half conscious does impair one's memory, I suppose." I mused aloud.

"Indeed."

"Which is odd, because I remember the cracking and the relief quite clearly."

"Maybe I've traumatised you." he teased, in that 'No one else but you can see' way.

"Perhaps." I agreed, smirking at him.

He prodded my ankle again, muttering under his breath. I caught the phrase 'Fragile human' before I snorted and pulled my feet away from him.

"Where are you going?" he asked, watching me stand with wary eyes.

"I'll give you fragile human," I mumbled back. "I'm going to my room, Master. It seems you have some issues to discuss, and I am within blinking distance of passing out."

"Here, let me help you." Dante jumped at my arm and took a step.

His skin on my skin.

It was like a bolt of electricity shot through my veins - I ripped my hand away like it burned and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You have never seen me before. You didn't even know I existed. And now you want to help me up the stairs for something that wasn't your doing?"

I watched his face fall, and pulled on my coldest poker face.

"Don't touch me." I said coldly. "You don't have any idea how much I want to kill you. _Don't push me into it_."

Master Vergil sighed and picked me up anyways, to which I replied by snarling and kicking the entire ride.

"Put me down!"

"No."

"Just put me down! I can walk, damnit!" there were a few more colourful words, but Master Vergil put me down on my bed and looked at my bloodied arms.

"We're going to have to clean those." he said blankly.

I ripped my arm away from him. "You read my diary."

"Yes. I read your diary. And I'm sure you're going to rave and kick and scream. But until then-"

I tried to shimmie away, but half demon versus human.

I had no chance.

He pinched my nerves at the base of my neck, causing my eyes to droop and sleep to almost drag me into darkness.

I was going to kick his butt.

Maybe.


	3. Vergil's Plan of Action

**Hey everyone!  
These characters do not belong to me, but I'm pretty sure you know that. Why would I be writing FanFics if I did?**

**I claim Rachel!**

**Yes, it's a ramble, but necessary, I promise! **

**Ciao! TehOdd1 xoox**

_**Recap:**_

Master Vergil put me down on my bed and looked at my bloodied arms.

"We're going to have to clean those." he said blankly.

I ripped my arm away from him. "You read my diary."

"Yes. I read your diary. And I'm sure you're going to rave and kick and scream. But until then-"

I tried to shimmie away, but half demon versus human.

I had no chance.

He pinched my nerves at the base of my neck, causing my eyes to droop and sleep to almost drag me into darkness.

I was going to kick his butt.

Maybe.

* * *

**General P.O.V**

Vergil knelt down beside his apprentice, checking she was actually asleep.

He never knew nowadays, wether he was having any effect on her at all.

She was growing stronger every day, with training and determination.

The jokes and banter they shared were routine, and he could put up with her company most of the time.

She was alot like him. Sometimes he toyed with the idea that this is what having a child would be like: if it was his, or his brother's. He never fancied himself a father: having no experience in the matter. He often felt something resembling affection- which had probed the idea at the back of his mind that she would be a weakness to him. So, enough was enough. He was starting to get attached, fussing over her like a newly brought puppy.

He knew she was stronger than he gave her credit for, but somewhere between the attachment and detachment for the girl he forgot where.

He wanted to test her limits. So, by making her walk thirty paces to the door with a dislocated ankle, fractured wrist in two places and broken in one, and hairline fractured ribs with accompanied splinters of bone jarring into her lungs, he had figured out that she could push herself no further. Under the circumstances.

Then his brother came, three days early, and made her fly into a fit of rage so powerful she was numb to the pain.

It was then, he realised, that she _was_ alot like him in many ways. He was rubbing off on her.

And the fact that he enjoyed it, was enough to be grateful for his brother's early arrival.

She had to go.

He didn't even notice that whilst he was thinking about the affection they had shared, that he had pulled a green vital star from his pocket and touched it to her chest. The swelling fell away, the bruising turned old - he heard clunks and watched Rachel's face distort as bones settled back into place.

But she did not wake.

Sighing, her got to his feet and made his way down stairs, to the lounge. His neck tweaked uncomfortably, thanks to his apprentice. She had a certain way of aiming for his neck - his vital point of living - so often he had to think of ways to dodge the attack before so attempted it. She was fairly quick, for a human. Reminded him of Lady...

"So she's really somethin', huh?"

"Yes, Dante." Vergil fought not to roll his eyes.

Dante moved into Vergil's outer vision, at his right, watching the fire as he so often did.

Nero moved in the shadows at the door way, listening. Dante, oblivious to his being there, and Vergil, completely aware.

"She is a handful. Which is way I want her to train under you." Vergil said coolly, speaking to his brother but softly touching the tip of her nose in the only _visible _picture of her and him together, never looking away.

"When she was about six, she tried to scrub away her freckles with steel wool." He pointed to a scar on her cheek, in the photo. It was glossy and faded at the same time, the fire aging it slowly and Vergil's intense eyes never letting it dust.

"She came into my room, half past four on a Wednesday morning. She stood there until I stirred and woke to find her covered in blood."

He smiled faintly at the memory.

"She wasn't crying. She told me that big girls didn't cry and reasoned that the tears were going to hurt if they got in the gash."

He paused, and looked up at his unnaturally pale brother.

"Very logical, for a child. She always considered every option. She beats me at chess."

Vergil said this quietly, proudly.

Dante looked up at his brother with wide eyes. "She beat you?"

Vergil nodded solemnly. "Just because you never did, Dante..."

Dante snorted, and looked up from the fire, at last searching his brother's eyes.

"You've done a good job, bro." he said in a false warm voice. It was hard enough Vergil had to accept his brother's praise - it was another thing to feel proud of it.

"It was hard." he said quietly. So quietly, that Dante didn't know if he was supposed to hear.

"Because she was a girl. I didn't know how to treat a little girl. We got along fine the first few months, barely speaking. I sent her to kindergarten, and she would come home and ask me how my day was. I never thought I should ask in return." he whispered.

Vergil's head tilted to the side, and he considered taking the photo with him.

To remind him that he_ could _feel.

"And I fixed that problem." he said coolly. "It turns out that the children were bullying her. And she didn't stop smiling from there on in. Apart from that _other_ bullying problem..."

He shrugged.

"She fixed it herself. That's when I first read her diary, to know, of course. She had the neatest hand writing..."

Dante shifted his weight then flopped down on the couch Rachel had preoccupied prior to him.

"Is she good? At sparring?"

Vergil smirked up at his brother, who looked confused.

"What?"

"She beat me today, hence the extensive injuries." he waved a hand in the general direction of the girl.

From the shadow's, Nero's eyes went wide.

Dante blinked stupidly.

"Vergil. _I _can't beat you."

Vergil's smirk widened.

"Like I said, you may not have beaten me Dante, but it wasn't once did she land me flat on my back with a sword to my throat, but twice."

"Twice?" repeated Dante, looking on at his elder with an open mouth.

"Indeed. Very quick. Her manner is slow, but behind her eyes ticks a very fast brain."

"So, did she ever, like, I dunno...Show any unnatural abilities?" Dante asked slowly. "I mean, she's gotta be more than just human to beat you, right?"

"No, there has been no abilities. But I may be mistaken, I've had no other to compare her against." Vergil said under his breath, eyes dropping to the fire. He turned, and quirked an eyebrow.

"You don't suppose it was my training, and my training alone, that lead her to victory?"

Dante shrugged.

"I know as much about teenage girls as you do...only more, in the perverted way at this age I shouldn't be thinking about." he grinned at his brother, who rolled his eyes.

"You are _so _immature."

"But you got beaten up by a fifteen year old." Dante pointed out.

"Yes Dante, she beat me. It took her eleven years, but she managed. When you couldn't." he scoffed.

Dante did the most mature thing that popped into his head at the time - stuck his tongue out at Vergil.

Vergil grimaced, then smirked a little.

"She did that once." he mused, smirk growing. "And I told her that if she didn't put her tongue away, I would tape it to the side of her face."

Dante eyed his brother suspiciously. "You're way too smug. She didn't put it away, did she?"

"Stubborn as a horse." Vergil said, shaking his head slightly.

From there on it was silence, apart from the cackling of the fire, and the rather loud breathing that Dante had taken too. His brother's scent was foreign to him. Nero took the silence as a gateway, and stepped forward.

"So she's a good fighter." he scoffed, causing Vergil's icy eyes to snap in his direction. "So what?"

"Well, no that it's any of your business, _boy_." he snapped, looking at Dante. "But I can no longer care for her. I trust no one, let alone know anyone, who could ever rival me in the way of the sword. It would be best for Rachel to leave, and... spread her wings, I believe the term is."

Nero opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Dante.

"Verge...." mumbled Dante, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

Vergil raised an eyebrow, looking over his brother's flustered form.

"Yes?"

Dante's jaw visibly tightened and jumped up from his lofty position on the couch, and started to pace.

Amusing, that Dante should do they very thing he had done when he was a child. The pacing. It brought back many forgotten memories.

"Look, about Rach, I... didn't know she was...well, you know," he said hastily, "a kind of... well, I thought you and her were..."

Vergil closed his eyes and sighed. Yes. Trust Dante to ruin whatever moment he had created.

"Lovers? Of course _you_ would."

"No, I mean...Well, that's what I thought...But I didn't...Expect to have to...take care of the kid, Verge..." he mumbled.

"Dante, if you are to tell me that this child, the only Sparda legacy unto this world..."

Dante's face darkened as he looked up at his brother.

Vergil fought very hard against the urge to kill him.

"She's not." he seethed through gritted teeth. "The only one."

"No. I have a pair of sons, Vergil." Dante's eyes brightened some but he still looked ill. "Twin boys."

Vergil's teeth ground together. "Do you know the mother?"

Dante snorted. "Yes Verge, I know the woman I'm married to."

Vergil raised an angry-amused eyebrow.

"Yeah, I got married, too. After the demons stopped trying to wreak havoc at my wedding for the fourth time, we just gunned it to Las Vegas with the kids in the back and a shot gun hangin' out the window."

Vergil took a silent breath in and concentrated on the sound of his heart. Yes, trust Dante to have announced his wedding with no tact and have demons storm it more than once.

"Verge, I gotta know....What do you want me to do?" he said weakly, looking down.

"I don't know if I can keep her, Verge."

Vergil blanched quietly.

He couldn't keep this child? Was he serious? His brother always jumped at a chance to help a puny human, always!

And now...?!

What would he do then? Leave Mirabella and Rachel alone, together? Abandon her? Never. He knew the abandonment feeling - it was not something he could ever whish on her. But he couldn't _keep_ her, either.

Vergil Sparda, who always knew his own mind and body, was torn.

"You _must take her_, Dante." Vergil grounded out quietly.

"Why? Why should I-?!" Dante retorted hotly. "You try to kill me, and my friends, not to mention my lover, and now we're playing happy families?! What the fuck, man? Give me one good reason." he said coldly, a tone of voice that in Nero's opinion made him seem very old.

"Because I am your brother." Vergil said softly. "And never have I asked anything of you."

Dante recoiled, watching his brother's blank eyes boring into him.

"I'll do it." Dante said quietly. "But by the look of things, she ain't comin' quietly."

"She'll do anything I ask her to." Vergil countered, in his most superior voice. "That's the way she was brought up."


	4. Oh, yes, I went there

**Hey everyone!  
These characters do not belong to me, but I'm pretty sure you know that. Why would I be writing FanFics if I did?**

**I claim Rachel!**

**Yes, it's a ramble, but necessary, I promise! **

**Ciao! TehOdd1 xoox**

_**Recap:**_

"Because I am your brother." Vergil said softly. "And never have I asked anything of you."

Dante recoiled, watching his brother's blank eyes boring into him.

"I'll do it." Dante said quietly. "But by the look of things, she ain't comin' quietly."

"She'll do anything I ask her to." Vergil countered, in his most superior voice. "That's the way she was brought up."

* * *

Nero was told he could sleep in Rachel's room, on the fold out couch, but had to be careful he didn't get in her way when she woke up.

Or wake her up, heaven forbid.

He stormed into the room as quietly as one could storm, whishing Dante hadn't stolen the couch, and paused when he saw the girl on the bed.

She had long dark brown hair set around her face like a warped, curly halo. Not that he would know what a halo would look like. In his opinion the only angel he ever did see was Kyrie, and the only halo she had was a feathery one for Halloween.

Still, she only condoned in it when the children insisted on her company, and that she dressed accordingly.

Oh, how he missed her.

The girl kicked the blankets away from her chin, and squirmed, moaning under her breath.

"Kill 'im…Master, please…Lemme kill 'im…"

Nero snorted and tried to turn away.

Tried, being the operative word.

Somehow, she had silently fallen out of her bed and latched onto his thigh, not unlike a child, with her chin digging firmly into the muscle.

"What the…?"

"Please…" she whispered, and then he noted that her eyes were flickering beneath the closed lids.

She still had freckles, and a scar on her left cheek. The were a few cuts here and there, and a giant blossoming bruise at her temple.

She was only five years younger than Nero, but looked so much littler. Like...Six? Especially clinging to his leg like that, which made her look even younger.

Did that mean the kiss they shared was paedophilia?

_But SHE started it_. he thought. Then realised how immature that sounded, even in his own head, he rolled his eyes.

Nero sighed and prayed her fierce, crazy green eyes stayed shut. He couldn't be stuffed beating up on a physically damaged little girl, who might think he was about to rape her or something considering she was half dressed. That, and the fact that he was pretty sure that Vergil bloke would take his head off.

"Get off." He said, prodding her shoulder. "Geeze, I knew you wanted me, but seriously…?"

She nuzzled his knee.

He twitched. He almost broke into a frantic fit of giggles, what with that being his extremely ticklish spot and all.

But then he sobered, and prodded her again, a little harder.

"Oi, get off."

She didn't reply in any way.

Sighing, Nero deducted that the possibility of waking her up with his nuts staying in tact was very little.

The way that Dante's twin was so aware of everything must of rubbed off on the kid, because when he next told her to let go of his leg before he gorged her eyes out with a spork, she replied: "I'd like to see you try."

But remained in a blissful slumber.

Nero's teeth started to grind from there, not only succeeding in giving himself a bigger headache than he already had – Dante had pushed him into a giant booby trap involving a giant hammer that swung at his head – but broke two of his back teeth.

They healed promptly, but that was the third time that day, and it was really starting to make his jaw ache.

"Kid," he said as nicely as he could. "Could you please-?"

"Please." She breathed again, and this time he saw her lip trembling. "Please, I can…make it better…Retribution… I hate seeing you so angry…"

Nero blinked, and assumed she was talking to Dante's twin, in whatever world she was currently looking at. He doubted, from what he had seen that night, that she would ever say that kind of thing to Dante's twin.

And, neither would he, really.

Once he had asked the girl, once again, to let his thigh go and been shut down with a snarky insult that had three big words in it, he huffed his over long fringe out of his eyes and pried the girl off his leg with his demonic arm.

And instead of feeling the scales and waking up, as Kyrie had done so often?

She clung to it instead, burying her nose in the crook of his elbow and inhaling deeply.

A little taken back, he lifted her effortlessly and shook her off to the mattress, which bounced lamely with the added vigour of his shakes.

He thought he saw a flash of crazy green iris, then : "Ew, you smell like sheep." And no more.

Shaking his head, he unfolded the couch with one eye trained on the girl, just in case she decided to play leech again.

Before he lay down to sleep, he knelt at his bed side, and clasped his hands in front of his face, closing his eyes.

"Dear Lord," he said quietly. "I thank you for the day past, and the night ahead. I pray for guidance, and patience. I pray for my friends, Dante, Lady and Trish, and for the soul of my beloved Kyrie, who is in your care. Amen."


	5. Admire my Restraint

**Aloha, chickens!**

**Aloha, chickens!**

**Miranda, this is for you!**

**Ciao! TehOdd1 xoox**

_**Recap:**_

"Dear Lord," Nero said quietly. "I thank you for the day past, and the night ahead. I pray for guidance, and patience. I pray for my friends, Dante, Lady and Trish, and for the soul of my beloved Kyrie, who is in your care. Amen."

* * *

My eyes opened the second Santa's Little Helper's back had turned, but when he started to pray, I sat up.

I had never heard someone pray before. In my studies on religion my Master had made me pay constant attention to, I had come across it. When questioned, Master Vergil replied with a simple : _It's a pointless exercise that gives humans hope. Now, what is the main repellent for a Snow Toad?_

I could only guess my chronic sleep walking had made me run into the kid or something. I mean, here I was, sleeping, and the next thing I know he's dumped me on my bed like I'm the weird one.

Uh, hello? YOU came into MY room, pal.

He didn't seem to notice me watching him as he crawled into the foldout bed, throwing his hoodie onto the floor. My head tipped to the side, as I watched his chest rising and falling.

I didn't care that I'd barely been asleep longer than a few hours. According to my Yamani watch, I had been sleeping for exactly five hours and thirty eight seconds, which meant that my Master's little 'I'll-pinch-you-to-sleep' thing was wearing off. The previous time had taken five hours and three minutes, and the time before that five hours and thirty minutes.

The Yamani watch was a present he had given me for the first time I beat him at chess. It was pretty much the first present he'd ever given me, at nine years old, at which point I'd been living with him since I was four.

It was silver, and small, and let me time any significant thing I wanted, without programming it. Impervious to damage of any kind, and water proof. If anyone tried to steal it, or I lost it, it would somehow find a way back to me.

Like this one time, I went two weeks without a shower, and it told me to bathe. Literally. Sounds gross, but I was flat out with training. If breathing didn't come naturally, I wouldn't have done that either.

I tiptoed past the sleeping giant and down the hall, listening to The Evil Twin's snores. My Master was always silent when he slept. If he slept. He had the worst case of insomnia I had ever heard of.

I planned to confront my Master and ask him what the hell was going on. Only, in a more polite way, because if I went around swearing any more he would probably wash my tongue with soap.

_Again._

I found Dante asleep on the couch downstairs and resisted the urge to attempt to kill him. Instead I found the biggest spider I could and put it on his face.

"Rachel, honestly." My Master sighed from the shadows. "Why are you so insistently immature?"

"Because that's the only way I will ever get through to jerks like him." I jerked my thumb at the offending tangle of limbs on the couch.

"Besides, I could've strangled him. Admit it, you admire my restraint."

"I do quite admire you're restraint." he chuckled briefly, which was weird, for him, then sat on his chair, motioning for me to come to him with a 'come hither' motion.

"What's wrong, Master?" I asked quietly, sitting on the arm of his chair, wincing a little as my ribs twitched.

He regarded me for a moment, then reached out and touched my bruising temple with his index finger gently.

"You should not have been subject to this." He said softly. "I have cared for you more than anyone in my entire life, yet I hurt you and bruise you. How can you still stay by me?"

"It's easy." I replied, smiling. "You're all the family I've got."

He frowned. His eyes trailed over my skull and onto Dante.

"When I had family." He said smoothly. "I would do anything for them." His eyes flicked to me, and in the fire light, something stirred in his eyes. Something I wasn't quite sure of. It might've been regret, but he was far to proud a man to ever show me his regrets.

Besides, why would he regret anything?

"I would do anything for you," I answered, telling him in my own way that was how much he meant to me. "You know that, right?"

He nodded once, a slow, deliberate nod.

"I know. But is it because that is the way I have brought you up, or because you want to?"

I snorted. "Does it matter?"

"It does." he replied dryly. "Now answer the question."

I considered this, then shrugged.

"I would do anything for you, because I respect you."

"Is it respect or fear?"

"Both." I answered quickly, impatiently, my eyes boring into his. I refused to lie to him. "I know well enough not to piss you off, but I do know, contrite to popular belief, how to defend myself."

He stared.

I stared back, poker face on.

His hand moved, prodding at my temple, his eyes on his fingers, frowning slightly.

"So if I asked you to do something for me, an almost impossible feat..."

"Anything." I promised, then as soon as I had, whished I'd kept my impulsive mouth shut. Now I was bound.

And he knew it.

Amused, he raised an eyebrow. "You promise?"

I hesitated.

Who knew what lay in store? He could ask me to do anything, from carrying him around piggy-back (which he had done, yes I thought he was joking until he was perched on my back- apparently it was to build resistance to carrying heavy and 'valuable' objects,) running errands (down into the middle of town, in the deepest pits of the slums, no weapons, no maps, and no money, surrounded by demons who had wanted to kill him,) and fetching his newly made coat (From the middle of Hell. Don't go there, and I won't have to relive the torture.)

"Anything for you. You should know that."

His face was sombre.

"I wanted you to rebel." he said quietly, then sighed. "I want you to go and live with Dante."

I blanched.

"What?"

"Pardon." he corrected quietly. "And I said I want you to live with Dante. Leave this place, and me, behind."

I blinked stupidly at him.

Then: "What?"

"Go and live with Dante."

....

......

"What?"

"Rachel." he growled out under his breath, eyes going hard. "You heard me."

"Bu-...Why? Did I do something wrong?" I asked frowning. "Is it because I annoy you or something?"

"No." he said impatiently. "It is because I am growing far too attached to you and you should learn another fighting style. Train under a different-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up!" I interrupted, watching him scowl at my impatience. "You are growing attached to me? _That's_ why you're sending me off!" I accused him, leaping out of the chair to point at him from a _very safe_ distance.

He narrowed his eyes and stood.

"You already swore."

"I promised, and didn't swear. Promises can be broken, Master, so I'll beg your forgiveness after we talk this through."

"There is not going to be any talking. I will not live with you any more. Accept it."

"You are the only family I have ever known! How can you just kick me out? Especially to him, of all people!" I demanded angrily.

"I expect you to be packed by tomorrow night. You will be leaving the next morning." He said, face plain.

"I'm not doing anything of the sort."

"You will."

"I will not."

"I will tie you to the rear of the car and have Dante drag you along." he said coldly, his eyes narrowing even further, if that was possible.

"You will not! Because that would be compromising my 'insignificant, fragile, human-ness'!" I bellowed, putting precise emphasis on the last three words he scolded me with so often.

He glared, and stood, his chest pushed out and chin raised. Not that he needed to push his chest out - he had the finest pectorals in the entire world, bigger than your face.

No seriously. They were bigger than my face. I knew because if you remember correctly, I was pressed against them five-odd hours ago, when he was carrying me around.

"You will do as I say. I suggest you go and pack whatever you need, and quickly."

"FINE! I don't care!" I yelled, stepping backwards quickly. "It's just as well you gave me the option to leave, I might've pulled a stunt like Dante and ran out on you with out so much as a goodbye!" Furious, I stopped stepping backward and glared.

My Master Vergil, the strongest and most stubborn man I knew, stayed completely still. His face was set in a mask that even I couldn't read. I might've surmised that he was in shock, if I didn't know any better.

_If_ I didn't know any better.

"I would run out, take half of everything, leave and make your life hell." I continued bitterly. "So maybe it's for the best that you're kicking me out. I don't care."

My Master Vergil blinked once. Very slowly. I knew what that was a sign of - he'd done the same thing when I'd asked him if I could go to the movies with my crush.

He was processing.

"You wouldn't leave me." he said softly. "You are hardly controlling your sadness as it is. And you haven't even left yet."

Never had I ever heard him use that voice before. I didn't know what it was - and I didn't like it. It was far beneath him, something I never expected him to sound.

Human.

"You used to sneer at me." I blurted out, voicing my thoughts.

"I did not particularly like you." he pointed out, in that same, soft voice. "You see how you've changed me?"

"I-I didn't mean..." I swallowed, then closed my eyes. I fought for control over my anger, which had abandoned me somehow.

"I am not leaving here feeling guilty." I snapped, re-opening my eyes. "I am not happy about this."

"I'm sensing a 'but'..." he prodded.

"But...I will leave, if that's what you want me to do. I have never directly disobeyed you, why start now?"

"Why indeed?"

I scowled at him before dropping my eyes to the floor, turning around to walk upstairs and pack my life away into a bag.

"Rachel." My Master said in his newly found quiet voice, suddenly at my side, hand on my shoulder.

"I never intended for us to both feel anything at all. I assumed you'd grow to hate me, much like everyone else around me has, eventually."

"Yeah, well." I mumbled, shrugging his hand off my shoulder – though I wanted to lean into the warmth it had to offer me.

"You assumed wrong." And with that left in my wake, I went upstairs, glowering at Santa's Little Helper before rolling into my bed and falling asleep.


	6. Let's Begin

**Promptly send me kisses and cheese!**

**Rachel is MINE!!!**

_**I will post again next week, probably on Tuesday, so CHILL!**_

**Ciao! TehOdd1 xoox**

_**Recap:**_

"Yeah, well." I mumbled, shrugging his hand off my shoulder – though I wanted to lean into the warmth it had to offer me.

"You assumed wrong." And with that left in my wake, I went upstairs, glowering at Santa's Little Helper before rolling into my bed and falling asleep.

* * *

When I woke up that morning, I was surprised to find that Santa's Little Helper had removed his shirt.

Muscle and scars rippled along his back, and shoulders. If I wanted to be a guy over anything, it was the upper body strength. Because let's face facts; females had stronger legs. :)

As quiet as I could, I packed my life away into a bag. Or, you know, four of them I kept under the bed.

First went to underwear, bras, socks and toiletries (if you know what I mean.)

I had about four pairs of shoes, one pair of wedge heels for going out - never been worn- two knee high leather boots, one pair in black, one in brown, and a pair of converse all stars in black. Now a faded grey.

The boots were thick and took up alotta room. I had to stuff some of my bras and socks into the boots to fit.

In the second bag, I put all my working out stuff. On top of that went my one casual pair of jeans (never been worn) and frilly pink dress (still had the tags on it.)

The majority of junk in this bag was my working out clothes: and armour.

Third bag, my many, many diaries, and countless books that my Master had made me study. My work books, and a romance written in Latin. A few very muchly loved photos that I cherished immensely. They were my proof of his affections...which at this time didn't seem all that 'affect-y'.

And in the last bag?

My pride and joy. The last bag looked like a guitar case. Master Vergil said that he'd stolen the idea from Dante, because according to him, the youngest twin always got the more… creative genes.

I eased my custom made sword out of the bag, and held it up to the light. I could see straight through the blade. The butt of the handle was in the shape of wings wrapped around a bleeding heart. Not one of those dodgy ones, like the ones love sick idiots draw everywhere, the actual organ itself. In pure gory detail.

The handle had a split in the middle, and the sides were twisted in vines, the leaves so perfect and thin I had bent a number of them the first time my Master allowed me to handle it.

He himself, did not- he said that all my power was in my fist, and it should be directed at the end of my blade, and that's why I was never allowed to play with it.

The entire thing was forged out of a pure demon's soul: one that had given his life for my Master.

"Hello, Genocide." I said warmly, forgetting the kid that slept behind me. "Did you miss me?"

I had two swords my Master trained me with : my training katana, whom I dubbed Ripple, and Genocide, who wasn't to come into play until I had mastered the art of the katana.

I felt a little saddened at the thought, and slid the sword back into place, it's bleeding heart breeching the sheath.

If Dante hadn't come, if my Master hadn't got cold feet: I would be allowed to challenge him now.

Well. I suppose we did have a few minutes…

I smirked, then snatched the sword out of place, revelling in the sweet_ shing_ sound it made.

The kid sat up from behind me and glowered at the sword as I walked by him lightly.

"Morning." I said in a false bright voice.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he bit out, his voice gravelly. He threw his demon arm out between me and the door – I almost ran into it – then narrowed my eyes at him.

I snorted. "As if I would tell you. I hate you. Piss off."

He growled. "Well I'm not going to let you go while you throw that sword around like a maniac." He snapped. "You might hurt someone."

"I'll hurt you if you don't get out of my way." I sneered back, placing the tip under his chin.

He 'hmph'ed, and cocked an eyebrow. "What are you gunna do, midget?" he teased. "Gunna stomp on my foot?"

I rolled my eyes.

"So immature." I tsked. "Too bad you have the mind of a four year old, I don't think you'll comprehend the word 'immature'."

He growled, his demon hand curling into a fist, and swinging at me.

I ducked, and sent an uppercut into his jaw, watching him slam back into the wall and leave a rather large dent where his head connected.

I snorted, rolled my eyes then pulled open the door, jumping over the balcony and landing with ease, watching Dante sit bolt upright from his place on the chair.

"Geeze Kid, whata hell wassat?"

"That, Dante," I chuckled, walking passed him to the back door. "Was the sound of your darling lover boy's head breaking the wall. Does he always break a lot of walls?" I drawled, not waiting for an answer and kicking the door open.

"Master!" I bellowed, eyes searching the fields.

Every morning without fail, my Master Vergil would take to the fields with a cup of coffee and wake himself up properly. Even if he hadn't been sleeping, which he was kinda prone to doing, he would always just roll out of bed, make the coffee, and amble down to his personal shed half asleep.

I was not allowed to go into his personal shed.

It was personal.

When he emerged, he was dressed in his usual blue trench and boots. I had followed him once – and when he caught me by the throat, he didn't even register I was there, he just sat, staring at nothing, sipping his coffee. Quite funny, if you ignore the fact I was steadily dying under the pressure of his hand.

"Oh Master Vergil!" I trilled, sheathing the sword at my back and running towards his shed.

It was only a minute run away, with the long grass whipping my legs and arms: I didn't think, just ran out the house in a pair of shockingly short shorts and a bra.

Classy female?

Uh, no.

I didn't bother knocking when I got there. Just kicked down the door.

Master Vergil sat with his bare spine facing me, katana beside him and coffee in one hand.

I registered that somebody had followed me, and turned to smirk at both Dante and S.L.H, who was supporting a bloody nose.

"Up for a show, boys?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Dante grinned – and I should be used to that fact that Dante grins and my Master does not – and nodded. "O' course, babe."

I snorted. "I will never be a 'babe', Dante. So don't call me that."

Without caring what he retorted, I turned and faced my Master, who was still facing the wall and not me.

I bowed as I entered, then made my way over to him silently. Placing the tip of my sword against the back of his neck, I pushed slightly and watched the blood roll down his spine.

"Might as well give, Master. I'm not going to go easy on you."

"I would be disappointed if you did." He replied politely, draining his cup of coffee.

"Now then, your stance. What is wrong with it?"

I looked down at my feet frowning. There was nothing wrong with my stance. I looked back up, mouth open and ready to point this out, but my Master's fist silenced me, his face victorious.

As I flew back, I tilted my head and allowed his fist to slip off my chin. I grabbed his wrist in both hands, then planted both feet at his ribs and pushed, sending his entire self flying over mine.

It took little pressure. I used the momentum of his punch against his own weight: it was something he struggled to teach me.

As he slammed into the wall above the door, in which Dante and S.L.H stood, quietly mortified, I was recouping on the floor, spitting blood and planning my next line of attack.

I didn't know my Master would fight dirty, as he had, telling me my stance was wrong so I would lose concentration and not see his attack coming. What I now needed to do, was ensure that he and his sword stayed separated.

With only his empty coffee cup in hand, he stood, a smug smirk on his lips.

"You fell for _that_?" he asked, chuckling, spinning the cup around his fingers with an expert grace, like he made it a habit to spin bulky coffee cups around daily.

I knew for a fact, that he did not.

"Unfortunately," I said, flashing him my blood stained teeth. His punch had split the skin over my top tooth, maybe even straight through.

I spat again, my eyes trained on him.

"Spitting is not becoming of a young lady." He teased, edging around to the side.

"Neither is being shirtless." I nodded to his bare upper torso with a grin. "What will all the boys think of you now?"

He flicked the cup at me, which cracked into three different pieces. I swung my sword around in one fine arc, slicing them all in half and having them fly over my head.

He was already launched, in mid-air, hand clawed out in front of him and very, _very _close to my face.

I slashed at his hand, but he grabbed my sword and twisted it so forcefully I was spun in mid air.

I glanced up, seeing his eyes on Yamato, and hazarded a chance at hitting him. He simply grabbed me at the elbows, and turned, throwing me into the wall.

Once again, I felt everything inside me lurch, hitting my ribs. The air left my lungs, and I wheezed, now weapon less.

"Oh, Rachel," he drawled, walking backward to his weapon, twisting mine around in his hand aimlessly. "I thought you would pose more of a threat than that."

I dropped my eyes to behind him, pretending to look at something for a second, then flicking my eyes back up at him.

"Sure."

He frowned, and looked behind me. I leapt up at him, and he sneered ( his version of a grin) and bellowed: "You really think I would fall for something as petty as-?"

But I had fallen to my side, sliding – very painfully – across the floor, and booted his at his ankles. He jumped, as I knew he would, and I lifted my legs, helicoptering them around, forcing him to move back. Whilst he was jumping in the air, I put my hands next to my head and pushed up, getting to my feet and running at the platform in the middle of the room which my Master was sitting on when I first found him.

I lifted, pushed up off it, and back flipped high in the air, wrapping my knees around my Master's neck and using the momentum of my flip to drag him backwards.

The plan was to smash his head into the floor.

But him, having the strength and agility of a feline, caught me by the hips and flipped over me, dislodged my legs from his neck and pinned me on the floor, face down.

It was a very quick fight. I was panting, and blood was pooling in my mouth.

I spat it out.

"Give in, Rachel." My master said, his voice amused.

I snarled.

"No."

"Stop being stubborn and give up."

"Stop being incompetent and git OFF!"

I struggled, like a fish out of water. Master Vergil caught one of my arms and pushed it up until it touched the back of my head. I stopped struggling – the pain it caused was terrible.

"Gotta admit," said Dante, from his place in the doorway. "She's pretty quick, eh, Verge?"

"She should be." He replied dryly. "That is how I-"

I used my free hand to push myself down – my shoulder popped out of place and Master Vergil let go, leaving me to spin around and back towards my sword.

I stood on the handle before biting my lip and popping my shoulder back into place, without averting my eyes from my Master's.

"You caused yourself injury escaping." He pointed out, picking up his sword coolly. "I thought that you would've gone the fake crying tactic."

"And have you see right through it?" I scoffed, massaging my shoulder before putting my toe under the handle of my sword and kicking it up. "Never."

I caught the sword as it swung down with the arm I had recently dislocated, and swung it around to point at him, my face set in a poker mask I had learnt how to perfect.

"I want to make a wager." I bit out.

He quirked an eyebrow, his head tilting to the left. Over his shoulder, Dante and the Kid were conversing quietly.

"I wager, if you win the next battle, I will leave the house quietly, with out any more protests. I will continue my studies with Dante, and won't give him Hell." I considered this, then added: "Within reason."

My master chuckled, inspecting the length of his sword. Then he asked quietly: "And if you win?"

I smirked, and rested the tip of my sword in the floor, leaning my arms on it coolly.

"If I win? I want to stay here, with you and Mira, and pretend I never met Tweedle Dee or Tweedle Dum over there." I nodded at Dante, who perked up, mock offended.

"Am I Dum or Dee?" He asked. "'Cuz I wanna be Dee."

I ignored him. Master Vergil rolled his eyes.

"Guys? Am I Dum or Dee?"

"Do you agree to my wager?" I asked seriously.

"Rules of the match?" Master prodded, looking interested.

"First to say 'I give up this match.' Any weapon allowed. If knocked unconscious, victory goes to the conscious one, and you aren't allowed to kill me to get me out of your hair."

He snapped his fingers.

"You take all my fun."

"Do you agree?" I pressed him, urgency making my voice sound weak.

I needed him to agree, otherwise, I would have no chance of staying. I needed him to agree, or I would have to go with Dante and Santa's Little Helper, and I didn't want that in the slightest.

I needed him to agree, because I wasn't going without a fight.

He considered, running a hand through his hair to push it all away from his face.

"I agree to your wager and terms. Let us begin."


	7. The Most Epic Loss Ever

**Ah, you guys, I only got one set of cheese. *cries***

**Loziboo, Hellsing, you'd better get off my back, all my love to Kiri-butt my lesbian spider man wanna be, and I hope the rest of y'all enjoy!**

_**Okay, so my friends did not chill! NEW PLAN! I shall post on every Tuesday, alright?!**_

**Ciao! TehOdd1 xoox**

_**Recap:**_

He snapped his fingers.

"You take all my fun."

"Do you agree?" I pressed him, urgency making my voice sound weak.

I needed him to agree, otherwise, I would have no chance of staying. I needed him to agree, or I would have to go with Dante and Santa's Little Helper, and I didn't want that in the slightest.

I needed him to agree, because I wasn't going without a fight.

He considered, running a hand through his hair to push it all away from his face.

"I agree to your wager and terms. Let us begin."

* * *

The first thing I did was bolt to the right, away from Dante and Santa's Little Helper, who looked a little perplexed.

I took a leap, propelled in the air by my running, and dug my sword into the wood, scrambling up and finding my footing on a beam above my head.

I yanked my sword out quickly, with urgent fingers before my master figured out what it was I intended to do : which was fight him in the beams above.

I almost threw the Genocide into his sheath as I catapulted myself upwards, wrapping my legs around another beam, sloth style. Swinging, I grunted a little as I hoisted myself up, catching sight of my master, who tilted his head, then gave a small, impressed : "Oh."  
He had realised that I had taken the fight to me, and not left it on equal ground, quite literally.

Because I had better balance than my master, fractionally, I would have the upper hand as we went to war, blade against blade.

It took him one jump to accomplish what I had struggled to do for the better part of thirty seconds. And he wasn't even panting.

"Clever." He nodded, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk.

I gave one of my own and bowed, spreading my arms wide but keeping my eyes firmly on his. "As always."

He came at me, intent on driving Yamato through my gut, but I jumped, and landed on his sword. Now, as he bowed at my feet, I booted him in the nose, and back flipped, landing neatly then climbing higher into the ceiling.

I turned, ready to run to the other side of the maze of wood and find an easier route upward, when out of no where, Yamato gleamed greedily in my eyes.

My master pressed the blade into the top of my nose, drawing blood.

"Consider this, Rachel." He said boredly, wiping blood from his top lip. "You're weapon is at your back. In the time it will take you to reach it, I would've cut your throat and let you drain dry. Or, you can try to come at me with fists, as I assume you are considering, and have me slice the better part of your face clean off the bone. Decisions, decisions." he drawled.

I snarled, blood leaking down both sides of my nose and over my lips. I spat, then gave him a bloody grin that would've sent a normal person cowering.

"And behind curtain number three!" I yelled, ducking, feeling the sword cut my forehead – then saw my master's knee as it swung up at me.

Hating myself for playing so dirtily, I caught him by the calf and pushed him sideways, the beam beneath his foot barely enough to offer him balance, and watched as he hissed – and stumbled back wards.

I snatched my sword from my back, being careful not to damage the leaves again, and gripped it in both hands, pointing it at him.

Nothing was said. He just steadied himself, straightened out his jacket, then nod at me to attack.

I did as I was told – I faked a hit to the left, a hit to the right, finally landing a cut on his bare left shoulder.

He narrowed his eyes at it, then me, then stomped on the beam, causing it to wobble dangerously.

I laughed, and sent him a crazed grin.

"Honestly, is that all you got? A bit of an earthquake send many opponents running for cover?!" I taunted, knocking his sword away and nicking the side of his ribs. "Come _on_, give us a challenge, Master!"

"Fine." He said smugly, catching my sword wielding wrist and tugging me until I pushed against his chest. "I will."

He twisted me until I was spinning with only his hand for aid. I tried tugging my hands away from him, but he wouldn't let go. I tried kicking out at him, but when I did he dipped me to the side of the beam and I was forced to put my foot back down before I fell off. I even tried to stab him. But every time I tried, he'd either just block it boredly or I'd be trying to stab thin air.

He was always with the tactics, see.

He tugged me to his chest again, smirking in my face before spinning me out like a tango dancer, kicking my hard in the spine, sending me sprawling on the beam. Thinking quicker than I should've been able to with my head as dizzy as it was, I stabbed my sword into the beam above my head, and held on to it while I gathered my bearings.

"That's cheating." I spat, closing my eyes and feeling as though I was going to loose my dinner.

"You didn't say I couldn't have fun with defeating you." My Master replied coolly.

My eyes snapped open, and I have never felt a rage equal to the one I felt then.

I was _**furious!**_

"This isn't a game!" I yelled, yanking my sword from the wood. "This is serious!"

"I am quite aware." He said, in his cool, too calm voice.

This was the voice he used whenever he was teaching me something painfully obvious. In this case, it was my 'I-am-far-better-than-you' lesson, which I had fought against since day one.

"Then why do you think it's okay to have 'fun', defeating me?!" I yelled, stomping my foot.

He sneered. "Because you have no challenge to offer me."

I growled, and turned, running up the other beam and swinging upright.

Master Vergil reached skyward and pulled himself up with one hand, to which I took my advantage and ran him through the chest with my sword.

He grunted, and took a few steps back.

Below us, I heard Dante holler out compliments and kudos to my awesome fighting skills.

A little blood dribbled down my Master's lips and chin. His eyes searched mine. I didn't move, just left the sword sticking out of his sternum and me glaring holes into his skull.

"You don't want to leave." He pointed out, blood painted over the better part of his mouth.

"Of course not." I whispered, swallowing hard. "I love it here – and I love you."

He recoiled like that stung, and lifted his sword until the tip of it pressed against my chin.

"That is why you must leave." He replied, voice cold.

"Why would I leave everything I have ever known?" I bit back, sniffing up unwanted tears.

He scowled.

"Because I asked you to."

"Well that's just not enough."

I put my foot on his stomach, and pushed roughly, pulling my sword from out of his torso and feeling blood splatter on my neck and face, making me feel like gagging.

He sneered, opening his arms like he was offering a hug. I knew he was not though: he was offering a view for me to watch all his wounds heal.

I was sick of this game, impatient for my win, and made an extremely dumb move.

I went to him. Lesson one, the Golden Rule _: if you are fighting an enemy stronger than you, always make him come to you._

Lunging directly at his chest, he knocked my sword away with an ear popping '_shing!_', and follow through with a punch to my already bleeding nose.

"You do as I tell you!" he barked out, as I clutched my head with one hand, trying to differentiate which way was up… and which was down. His punches were like kissing a full pelt freight train.

"Why couldn't you just go? Haven't I treated you unfairly you're entire life?! I denied you friends, I denied you family, and yet you will not leave me!" he bellowed, his jaw taut.

"Because you are my friends!" I yelled back, my nose throbbing something chronic. "You are my family!"

He turned with a huff, and made a move like he was going to jump down. I darted forward, with a growl, and watched him turn and catch my blade almost to easily.

He twisted, and my wrist popped out of place, and I was sprawling, flying through the air and off the beam as his fist met my nose once more, and then there was no chance I could catch myself or my footing then.

I slammed into another beam, my ribs taking the full brunt of my fall. Winded, I curled up, still falling through the air, my ass pointing down.

My spine copped the majority of the next beams, and I jerked up, literally bouncing before I rolled backward off that one, and faced the floor.

I had been beaten.

I closed my eyes sleepily. Blood tasted horrible, and I couldn't breathe, and my wrist was definitely dislocated. My ribs had cracked in more than one place when I hit the beam, and my spine was on fire.

But it was okay, because my Master was going to catch me…

He did, one arm beneath my knees, one under my arm.

I hissed, my spine popping as it was forced into it's natural place, my back arching.

"Well done, kid." He said gruffly.

I gasped, curling up and whimpering nonsense syllables into his collar, watching my own blood cover his already red jacket redder.

"_Don't you make me go!_" I wheezed, digging nails into his throat, trying to strangle him into submission. "_Don't you dare make me leave you!"_

"It's okay, kid." He soothed, beginning to walk me painfully to the exit. "I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself."

I felt tears and shook them away, groaning. Every step he took was agony.

He stopped, and I could just see, through blood filmed eyes, Dante with no shirt on and his hair slicked back, talking to him. I stopped groaning long enough to hear what he was saying:

"…is not my responsibility any more. She is nothing to me any more."

"Vergil, you cold hearted bastard." My Master sneered, fingers curling tight on my legs and ribs. "Can't you see she loves you?"

"Psh. Love." shirtless Dante said bitterly. "Why would I need her love?"

My Master in red huffed through his nose, and said angrily: "Nero, go get the Kid's stuff."

"What am I, you're lap dog?" he sneered in return. "How about you suck my-"

"Nero." My red donned master repeated. "Go."

I let a miserable noise out, then blinked blood tears away.

"Please." I breathed.

I saw shirtless Dante reach out and touch my temple softly. "She was far too emotional." He said quietly. "She had no chance."

"Shut up!" I wheezed as viciously as I could. "I had him! He won by the skin of his teeth!"

"I won," the shirtless Dante said, "by a mile and a half. It didn't help matters that you were injured from last night. You got cocky, Rachel."

"Don't tell me what I got," I mumbled, eyelids dropping. "'Cuz I beat him, what makes you think I can't beat you?"

I closed my eyes, wanting sleep. But I was prodded.

"Who am I, Rachel?" said the shirtless Dante, his fingers feather light on my cheekbone.

"You're Dante, dumbass." I snapped, ready to attack but feeling so safe in my Master's embrace.

"And how do you feel, in Vergil's arms?" the question came out forced, and exceedingly awkward.

"What's it to you?" I hissed, re-settling my head under my master's chin. "Why would you even…" I yawned, and didn't finished the sentence. Just closed my eyes.

"You see?" hissed a voice. "She can't even tell you from me! Humans are all the same, it was because I could protect her, did she hide behind me."

"Bullshit!" snarled another, closer voice. "You punched her in the face, Verge, as if she wasn't gunna be knocked around! She probably doesn't even know her own name!"

"Funny," the cold voice drawled. "Because she answered to it not two minutes ago."

I heard a demonic growl, then, I felt myself being whisked away.

"C'mon, Kid!" the loud voice yelled. "We're outta here!"

"Yeah, yeah…Geeze, I wasn't gunna say anything, but she looks like Hell."

"She would. She just went a round with my brother."

"Yeah, but damn. I thought he was gunna catch her, too."

"So did I. But heartless bastard wouldn't have won then."

The other voice made a disapproving noise.

"She's fifteen years old, for Christ sake." The louder voice continued: and then I was slipped away, slipped onto something soft and leathery.

"No!" I gasped, sitting up.

My spine yelled abuse at me, I'm sure of it, as I scrambled back away from Dante's hands and slammed my back into the opposite door.

I cradled my wrist, then blinked bloody tears from my eyes.

"L-Look, Dante, you don't want me, I eat too much and I talk too much, and I have a really bad temper, please, you can't take me, I sing in the shower and I burp at the dinner table, you gotta believe me, you can't just take me, please!" I pleaded with him, words tripping over themselves in my mouth, trying to find the handle without looking and wrench it open.

"It's okay, Kid." He said with a small smile, doubled over, half in the car and half out. "I do that stuff all the time too."

"No!" I yelled, elbowing the window, expecting it to break. "I'm not going, god damnit! He_ needs_ me!"

"Yeah," said Nero from the front set coldly, one arm leaning over the back. "I'm sure he does. Bloke gets lonely, in a big old house like that."

I glared. "What exactly are you suggesting?" I asked lowly, my hand closing over the handle.

He shrugged. "He probably got you to suck hi-"

I broke off the handle and flung it at his face. It connected with a huge '_crack!_' and him yelping, blood squirting all over the interior of the rather nice car.

"You bitch! YOU BROKE MY GOD DAMNING NOSE!"

"You deserved it!" I yelled, scrambling up for his face with clawed fingers.

I would've torn him apart.

I would've ripped his head off his neck.

I would've done lots of nasty, bloody gory things to the kid who insinuated that me and my master did those kinds of things.

But Dante caught me, and hushed me, stroking my hair down and saying soft things into my ear. He had his arms around me, and although I struggled, and struggled hard, he held fast and didn't waver. Just stroked my hair and hushed me down.

I felt the car lurch into movement, and freaked out, hitting at Dante weakly and insulting him with every bad word I could touch my tongue to.

He still hushed me down, and promised me that everything would be okay. That he was there, and that he would protect me.

I was so tired. And weak. And I had never been shown this level of gentleness in my entire life.

I whish I could say that, with a spurt of inhuman strength, I defeated the enemies and ran back into my Master's home, and he sat there, reading one of his hundreds of books with a cup of tea in one hand.

I whish that I could say that he laughed the entire thing off as a test of my loyalty unto him.

But I did not. And he would never.

I was shivering uncontrollably, under Dante's chin and trying to worm away occasionally, protesting with things like :

"You don't understand," and "Let me go."

"Please," was the only thing I could think might change his mind. So I whispered it again as his face tipped down to eye me sadly.

"He _needs_ me."

"I know he does, babe." Dante whispered back, pushing my hair away from my eyes. "I know. He does it to the best of us. Did it to me. Now he's doin' it to you. That's how he tells people he loves them." He sighed, a little sadly.

My bottom lip quivered, and I clutched at his jacket, wanting to hurt him. But how could I, when his eyes were so soft?

"I hate you." I whispered, then buried my face in his collar bone.

He chuckled, not condescendingly, at me, then laid his cheek on top of my head.

"Funny, Verge used to tell me that all the time."


	8. Reminisce, baby, it's okay

**Yay for cheese! :D**

**Whish me luck, guys, psychology exam tomorrow… It's a bit like "WOW I THOUGHT I HAD MORE TIME….Ah well, better roll with it…BUT IT'S TOMORROW AND I HAVEN'T FULLY COMPREHENDED EVERYTHING!...But it's cool, I'll pass easy, no worries…"**

**Lol. Keep you posted on that front. **

**I don't own DMC, but I like to tinker with the concept. If anyone complains, fine. I double dare you. **

**Ciao! TehOdd1 xoox**

_**Recap:**_

My bottom lip quivered, and I clutched at his jacket, wanting to hurt him. But how could I, when his eyes were so soft?

"I hate you." I whispered, then buried my face in his collar bone.

He chuckled, not condescendingly, at me, then laid his cheek on top of my head.

"Funny, Verge used to tell me that all the time."

* * *

Do you know what it's like to wake up somewhere, with out knowing where it is you are?

No seriously.

Close your eyes.

Get comfortable.

Imagine yourself in my position: you've just been taken away from the only family you've ever known. You been booted out of his house, for reasons that are unjust. You feel like you've gone a few rounds with a train - which you have, only the train had arms and legs and a face.

Does your mind let you remember what happened? Or do you already, subconsciously know, that when you open your eyes you will be out of your depth?

It's funny, you know. This entire thing reminds me of when my Master was teaching me how to swim.

There I was, about six years old, and absolutely terrified of water, for some unknown reason. I was also terrified of him, but did I let him know that?

Probably. I sure as hell can't remember that well.

Any way, he had brought me a little blue tutu number and goggles. Surprisingly enough, the tutu fit me pretty well. I was ordered (because that's what he did back then, he ordered me around instead of asked me,) to go change into those and then meet him at the back of the house.

I did what I was told. As always.

And there he was, an image of perfection, in a pair of baby blue board shorts and shirtless, towels in hand. I was too little to comprehend that he had the looks of an airbrushed model: and he was too arrogant to realise how terrified I was of swimming.

He lead me down to our dam, and ordered me in.

For the first time in two years, I shook my head.

His face turned ugly.

"What do you mean, no?"

"I'm scared."

"Don't be stupid, girl, get in there."

"But I can't swim."

"Hence the learning exercise."

"What does 'hence' mean?"

He paused, then picked me up under my arms, and threw me in.

*

That's what it felt like right now, as I opened my eyes painfully and threw the blankets off my legs. Like I was drowning. I was in too deep.

The room was dark, and I was quite aware that moments before I fell out of bed there was a screaming match going on downstairs.

I heard a rueful sigh, then: "You better go check on her, Dante."

Swallowing a mouthful that tasted alot like wet cemented carpet, I tiptoed to the best of my abilities to the window and tried to wrench it open. It didn't budge.

The heavy footfalls drew nearer.

Rolling my eyes in exasperation – _did he __really__ think locking the window was going to stop me?_- I picked up a lamp, jerked the lead from the wall, and attempted to break the window open. I expected it to break like an eggshell considering my more than ample muscles.

It did not.

The boots hitting the floorboards where pounding around the room, reverberating everything in sight.

I swallowed again - then paused when I caught sight of myself in the window's shameless reflection.

God, had I done a number on myself.

The worst thing was my eyes. Both were blackened and swollen. I reminded my own damn self of a wounded animal, the way my eyes looked. They shouldn't have looked as wide and innocent as they did. They shouldn't have looked so hurt, even unto myself.

There was a deep, scabbing cut on the bridge of my nose, and a tear straight into my hairline. My top lip had a hole in it. There was drying blood surrounding the wound.

I closed my eyes briefly, before I realised the heavy footfalls had stopped. The door to my prison creaked open.

"Kid?" Dante's gravel like voice whispered in. "Are you okay?"

My bottom lip, maybe the only thing on my face not swollen or bruised or bloody, began to tremble. The lamp dropped from my fingers.

There was no master Vergil to save me here.

*

After I had flailed around in the dam, trying desperately to survive in the murky water for about a minute, my Master dived in gracefully and wrapped an arm around my hips. I, of course, trying to climb onto his shoulders and get away from the water, but he held me still, and then shook me into submission.

"Stupid child." he said bitterly, looking around at the mud brown water around him. "Now I'm covered in filth. _Lovely_."

"I t-t-told you!" I howled in return, my arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. "I'm sc-sc-scared of w-water! I c-c-can't swim!"

It was freezing. He rolled his eyes, the first time that year to show any emotion at all.

"Well obviously." he said dryly. "Why else would I try to teach you to swim, if it was a skill you already had in your arsenal?"

"What'sa-a arsenal?"

He rolled his eyes again.

"In this context," he replied easily, walking coolly to the edge of the muddy walls. "It means 'skills'."

I nodded, huddling under a towel.

"Okay, m-m-master Verg-gil. Bu', what'sa contect?"

He sighed, and shook his head, pushing his now soaking brown bangs out of his face.

"I have myself to blame." he told the sky.

*

"Kid?" asked Dante again, his voice edging closer. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." I said, my trained poker face in play, though I did not face him.

"D'you...Want sumthin' t' eat or...I dunno, anything?"

I turned slowly, and revelled in the shock printed on his face.

"I would like some ice, please." I asked him quietly. "And a vital star, if you have one to spare."

He almost looked relived. Probably ecstatic I had not tried to kill him. Ah well. His time would come.

"Yeah! yeah, yeah, o' course, we got plenty! I'll get Trish to go trade some orbs in, 'Kay, Kid? Be back with the ice in a sec!" he gave me a grin - and I still wasn't used to the way it made his face look so different to my Master's - and turned on his heel.

Then he stopped abruptly, and turned back. "Hey," he said uneasily, his grin dropping at the corners. "Listen, Kid, don't try to escape. Room's magicked, and the door's locked with shit even _I_ can't bust out of." he gave me his wide smirk, and I blinked at it, leaving his request in the air.

"If I was going to escape," I told him blankly, returning to my window. "I would've done so already. Now, some ice, please."

He mumbled something about my master rubbing off on me. I hoped so: my own sombre personality was little of what I had left of my master.

My uncle, my brother, my father. He was everything.

*

He showed me how to get in the water safely. I tried, but squealed and almost made it back to the house when he scooped me up and put me over his shoulder.

"N-No way! It's freezing!"

"It'll be colder in a month, so learn now, or then."

"Bu' I dun_ like _water, master!"

"And I don't like you, but I put up with you every day, and do so _quietly_."

I stopped struggling long enough to feel hurt by that, then asked him cockily :

"So why'd you jump in after me, then?"

He considered this, then took me off his shoulder and laid a hand on my own shivering one.

"Because I hate disposing of bodies." he said seriously. I stopped being cocky.

"Now, when you get in the water, I want you to swim to me, any way you can."

"Bu' I _can't_-"

"Yes. You. Can." he replied, his nails digging into my shoulder, before he jumped in a graceful arc and entered the water smoothly.

When he re-surfaced, I looked back at the house, considering running back.

"If you run," he hollered from the bottom of the dam, easing back onto his spine, "You'd better be able to outrun _me_."

I swallowed and shuffled to edge of the dam water, feeling queasy. Mud squelched between my toes. It smelled funny. I couldn't see the bottom, and, I could only see my master's face, popping up over the calm of the water like a pimple.

"I dun feel so good..." I said, speaking to him but eyeing the water. "I'ma spew!"

"If you do vomit," he said calmly, standing to his full height - the water just covering his nipples- "Then you still swim. I won't, but you most certainly will."

I swallowed down the bile on the back of my tongue, and slid into the water, not daring to let go of the muddy wall.

"You can't very well swim to me attached to the wall, child." he said boredly, his voice echoing. "Now let go."

"I c-c-c-can't swim-m-m!" I half yelled, half chattered at the wall, why wasn't he listening to me? Why was it so cold?!

"Everyone can swim. Human babies can swim as soon as they exit the womb."

"I'm n-n-not a bab-b-by!"

"You are if you can't turn around and swim to me."

I turned my head over my shoulder and glared with all my six year old might at him.

He stood coolly, with his arms over his chest.

"Well?" he drawled.

I almost drowned myself in the progress, but I made it to him.

The only encouraging thing he said was "Hm." and pick me up, tapping my back as I coughed water up from my lungs.

He walked us back to the shore, and I shivered in his arms, until he pried me from his grip and threw a towel over my head.

"I t-t-t-_told_ you!" I squeaked, rubbing my arms.

"What?" he asked mildly, rubbing the towel over the back of his neck.

"I c-c-c-_can't_ swim-m-m!" I pointed out, as hotly as I could whilst my teeth shook my entire skull.

He quirked an eyebrow, then turned and pointed at the far side of the dam.

"Tell me child, can you see the rather large, protruding rock in the water, about a half way through the dam?"

I sniffled, then nodded. It was massive. How could I miss it before? Well, I can answer _that _- fear has a way of clouding your sight the way it did with me and that rock. It was unnecessary.

"You made it from here," he pointed at his feet, which the beginnings of the dam resided. "To that rock. Now, it may not have been swimming, per se, but with a little refinement-"

I jumped up and hugged his leg. I was too short to hug anything else. My tiny arms barely made it around his entire thigh. Either I was really tiny, or his thighs were massive.

...

Nah, his thighs were massive.

He touched the back of my head briefly, before trying to push me away.

"But you're warm!" I squealed, much to my own delight as it was to his distaste. "And I'm _freezing_!"

He sighed shortly, then yanked me off his leg and carried me back to the house, like a bride.

"Don't get any ideas." he told me, point blank. "You were obviously not going to let me go, and I need a shower after swimming in mud for the better part of forty- odd minutes."

I grinned.

Needless to say, it wasn't the last time he ever carried me back to the house.

*

Dante returned with the ice.

He made his way over to me, standing far too close.

And I snapped.

Maybe because I was reminiscing, who knew? The plan was not to attack him. But his arm brushed mine, and years of training kicked in.

I whirled, and grabbed his wrist, threw the bowl of ice into the air and flipping him over my shoulder.

He landed with a thud and an 'omph!', and I glared as I caught the bowl without looking.

"Don't think for a second that every thing is okay between you and me, Dante." I said coldly. "I made a promise to try to play nice to you. Don't push your luck." I turned and faced the window again, and heard him getting up and moving around.

"Well," he said brightly. "Verge always liked his personal space too. I guess he just rubbed off on you, huh?"

I blinked slowly, and picked up a piece of ice in my aching hand, and pressed it to my nose.

"Goodbye, Dante." I said quietly, though I knew he'd hear.

He made a noise, a noise like he might protest, then cleared his throat.

"Look, Kid, I know you don't wanna be here and that, so I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

I turned my head, just so I could see him over my shoulder.

He was sincere. I hated the weak look on his face with every fibre of my being.

"Good bye, Dante." I repeated softly. "And my name is Rachel, not kid."

He deflated, and gave me a weak smile.

"Yeah, sure."

And then he walked out, slamming the door loudly like a tantrum throwing four year old.

I heard a woman yelling at him.

"You said you were going to see your brother, Dante, not bring back some kid-!"

"Trish, listen to me, I promise you when I say he would've killed me if I didn't, pr'olly killed her too-!"

"I don't care about her!" She snarled in return, and I heard electricity crackling. "I care about you!"

"Then why don't you get that I needed to bring her home?" he bellowed.

"Because you do as you please, Dante, you don't even care what anyone else thinks or wants!" the woman named dubbed Trish yelled in return. "I don't care if she was going to be raped-!"

I made my way over to the locked door and studied it. The only thing that didn't protect it, was the hinges. I removed my precious ice and used the corner of the bowl to leaver it up. The woman continued to scream.

"-Or stabbed or beaten up-!"

Both hinges popped free, and the door swung forward with an almighty groan. I managed to catch it before it made too much noise.

The screaming continued.

"-Or cooked in a stew and eaten! I could care less if she was going to be shot-!"

Easing around the bulky door, I followed the screams, downstairs and in the tiny, yellowing kitchen.

"-Or hung, drawn and quartered-!"

"Excuse me." I said coldly, only blinking as she turned around with a jump. Her long blonde hair almost whipped Dante in the face.

His eyes were on me.

"But I would assume you are the cause of the majority of headaches in the house hold, predominantly mine. I would be eternally grateful if you ceased your yelling and took it down a notch. He _is_ standing right there." I pointed out.

She blinked dumbly, jaw open.

"Thank you." I said simply, before turning and making my way back to my designated room.

"She looks like she went a round with a freight train." She said, a little dumbfounded.

"Tell me about it." Was Dante's more than curious reply.

On the way back to my prison, I saw a clock, that was almost going to chime three am.

I saw a door, with the letters:

MAX and

DOM

On it, one set in blue, one in red.

I planned to investigate, but decided against it, when I heard Nero praying.

"…And I give thanks for the food I have consumed, and life I lead, and ask protection over all my friends, and Kyrie, who is now in your care. Amen."

His room was at the end of the hall way, and the door was opened a smidge.

I watched as a dark figure removed his shirt, and then his jeans. He slid into the bed, curling up into a ball, before beginning to cry.

I felt…Inclined to do something… Which is off, especially for me. Usually when guys cried around me, it was my fault. I never did learn the full extent of weakness in human males.

I inched closer and heard him sobbing out a name. Her name.

Kyrie.

It was such a pretty, feminine name, too. I caught myself comparing it to my own preference in names for girls: Charlie, Jay, Billy and Jordan.

But Kyrie? Why did the name strike such a chord in me?

I don't know. Honestly, I didn't even realise at the time that all the names I liked for girls doubled as names for boys.

But then again, I didn't realise that was a potential baby name list either.

"Kyrie." Nero whispered, and I saw his silhouette, illuminated by moonlight, curl around a pillow. It was a weak, pathetic position – with those giant shoulders curling down, hiding his arm from sight, his face buried in his knees.

I once again felt compelled to go touch his shoulder or something, pat his head, push the hair away from his eyes, tell him it would be alright.

Why?

Psh. Female hormones, I s'pose. It was a natural instinct I had never even entertained as a thought.

I made a promise to myself then, to try and be nice to him. To try and keep a straight face. But if he provoked me, well then hey.

Hell hath no fury, right?


	9. Nero's thinking

**Chesse. Cheese. Cheeze. Chieze. Chezze. **

**I got 76.6 on my psychology exam, and over 94 percent in law studies. **** Yeah, I'm kinda awesome like that.**

**I don't own Devil May Cry. If I did, there would be an entire level of just SEX. **

**Ciao! TehOdd1 xoox**

_**Recap:**_

Why?

Psh. Female hormones, I s'pose. It was a natural instinct I had never even entertained as a thought.

I made a promise to myself then, to try and be nice to him. To try and keep a straight face. But if he provoked me, well then hey.

Hell hath no fury, right?

* * *

_Why is it so dark in here? _

Nero wondered, groaning as Trish's renewed screams hit him full force.

_Is it a dark day?_

The part demon sat up, rubbing his eyes tiredly with his human hand, and remembering that, no, it was not the day that made the room dark.

_It is always going to be a dark day ahead of me_, _Kyrie is dead. _

He tossed the blankets off his bare legs and padded over to the window, and tugged the drapes open.

The sky was grey. Rain fell from the heavens in sheets, and his breath hit and fogged the window up before he had time to realise it.

He yanked them closed again so forcefully that they almost fell off their hinges, angry at the sky. Why he was angry at the sky, he did not know. All he knew was that the sky and it's raining didn't help his mood.

Nero sighed, scratched his stomach aimlessly with his demonic arm, and padded over to his door, checking the time : 8:23 am. He'd been asleep for six hours. That kind of sleep came to him rarely, but when it did, he sure as Hell was happy about it.

Trish's constant screaming was driving him nuts. First she only screamed at night. Then she screamed at lunch. Now it was all the time.

This time, it was about the kid.

He understood that Dante often did stupid things without telling or considering her, and who was he kidding? Dante did it to him too.

But he didn't get why so was so worked up over the kid. The girl, who was only five years younger than he was (which he still couldn't believe) , needed a place to stay.

And if Trish didn't calm down and lower her voice, she was going to wake the kids.

Nero tugged on a pair of jeans and managed to wriggle his torso into an AC/DC shit. He'd been training, and fighting so much since Kyrie's death, that he hardly fit into any of his old things any more.

Nero continued down the hall, passed the door that Dante had carried the kid up to. It was wide open. He stuck his head inside.

The girl sat on the end of her bed, with a piece of melting ice to her nose and blackened eyes watching him intently.

He shuffled.

"What are you lookin' at?" he bit out, standing tall.

She rolled her eyes closed. "Don't start,_ Kid_. I really can't be bothered beating on you today."

He snarled, and folded his arms across his chest, feeling the shirt pull tightly around his back.

"Did you just call me 'Kid'?" he asked dangerously.

She rose an eyebrow. "So you're deaf and dumb." She said, mock shame-faced. "Sorry, I didn't mean it. _Kid_."

"I'm older than you, you little midget!" he snapped, pointing a finger at her.

"I'm clearly smarter." She retorted, face blank where he should've seen a smirk. "And clearly and better fighter."

"Yeah, your face full of bruises is evidence, I guess. So much for feeling the love. I guess he likes it rough. Or did you forget, that Vergil beat you into a bloody pulp?"

He had been warned, by Dante, who told him not to bring up Vergil. But, as Nero is prone to doing, he didn't listen, and did what he wanted.

The girl didn't move, but her eyes did. First he thought she was perving on him, the way her eyes raked down his body. Her gaze lingered on his arm longer than any other place.

Then her eyes flew back up to his.

"Yeah, 'course I forgot. Did you see how hard that guy hits? I'm pretty sure I got amnesia or something, short term memory. Show me what he did."

He scowled.

"I ain't gunna beat you up any more than your already beat." He said, turning on his heel angrily.

She threw a blue bowl at the back of his head. It shattered with the force.

"I wasn't asking." She said dryly, already standing and in stance. "C'mon, show me what you got. _Kid_."

Well, after that, what was he supposed to do? She was _literally_ asking for it. And he had to put her back in her place.

Just simply had to.

He lunged at her with his demon arm, aiming at her throat and ready to strangle the girl to death.

She ducked, far too fast for him to stop. He tripped over his own feet and stumbled, before she was just suddenly there, and twisted his human arm behind his back, pinning him to the floor without breaking a sweat.

She was sitting calmly on the small of his back, trapping his demon hand with her foot and stomping on it if he struggled too hard.

"Pathetic." She said coolly. "Although, that arm of yours is a niffty piece of work. Can I have one too?"  
He struggled and grunted and kicked his feet.

"Where'd you get it? K-mart? Target? Was it on special?" she continued to taunt him.

"Gerroff!"

"No." she said in that same, cool voice. "I don't think I will."

"DANTE!" Nero yelled, wriggling free of one hand then standing up, with her still attached to his back – only this time she was next to strangling him herself. "I'M GOING TO KILL THIS BRAT!"

"Just try it!" she hissed through gritted teeth, pulling her arms tight around his throat.

Nero heard the 'thud-thud' of Dante's footsteps, followed by a bunch of littler ones.

On no. He woke up the kids.

"Rachel!" Dante bellowed, a silly grin on his face. "Get off the kid!"

"He started it!" was her only reply, as Nero grabbed on of her legs and dragged her down, swinging her around to his front.

He took the barrage of fists in his face, mostly jabbed at his nose, then tripped over something and like dominos, had her trip on him.

She landed hard on his gut, winding him, before being picked up by the scruff by Dante, who cocked an eyebrow down at him.

"Kid, did you start it?"

"NO!" Nero howled, getting to his feet, clawing his mis-matched hands at them both. "But I'll sure as Hell finished it-!"

Taking advantage of her position in the air, the girl lifted her leg and booted him in the gut so hard he doubled up, then kicked out at him as Dante held her at arm's length.

"He did so!" She yelled, trying to scratch Dante's hand away from under her arms. "He started it!"

"NO I DID'NT!"

"THE HELL YOU DIDN'T!"

Dante dumped Rachel in favour of pushing Nero's back onto a wall.

While Rachel recovered on the floor, Nero scowled at her over Dante's shoulder.

A little voice made the girl's eyes go wide.

"Daddy, are you puttin' Uncle Nero in the naughty corner?" Little Dominick asked, tugging on what little there was to tug of Dante's leather chaps.

Dominick was dressed in his usual get up : a pair of jeans with red Nike sneakers and a red fire engine shirt to match.

Dante smirked down at the platinum blonde mop that was his son. Well, one of them, anyway.

"Yeah, 'cuz that's what happens when you fight, even when you get old, see?" he said, motioning to Nero and then the girl, who had almost tripped over herself to climb backwards on the bed and press her bruising spine into the headboard.

"Hey, I never seen her before!" the little boy exclaimed, looking wide-eyed at the girl and then tilting his head all the way back to look up at his dad.

"Who's she?"

"That's Rachel. Dom, Rachel, Rachel, Dom."

"HI!" the little boy hollered, waving his entire arm up in the air.

"Charmed." The girl all but squeaked.

Nero scowled and heard rather than saw the little boy's twin walk into the room. With a rueful sigh, Max rolled his ice blue eyes and announced: "Dad, Mum said that if the girl is making a mess, you have to clean it up." Then his eyes found the girl's and his almost snow white eyebrow rose.

"I'm Max. I can assume you've met my brother, the Idiot?"

Rachel's face broke into a small smile, and she giggled behind her hand.

"I was told his name was Dom." She said matter of factly, before crawling forwards and holding out her hand.

"My name is Rachel. Pleasure to meet you, Max."

"Pleasure is all mine," he assured her, taking her hand and squeezing it gently, before turning her knuckles up and kissing the back of her hand.

She giggled again. The little boy with the blue Tomas the tank shirt straightened.

"How old are you?" Max asked, his head tilting to the side.

"I'm fifteen. How old are you?"

"I'm five." He said, holding up the appropriate amount of fingers.

Her smile widened.

"Well, what do you know, Max?"

"I know a lot of things. What are you asking, in particular?" he said, folding his arms over his chest coolly.

Nero scowled. Not even he could make Max talk that much, and Max said that he was his favourite grown up.

As the brunette and the white blonde child continued to talk, Dominick turned to his father scowling.

"Dad, how come Max is talkin' to Rach like that? He doesn't talk to any body new!"

Dante shrugged, and picked up his son, balancing him on his hip. "Because, Dom, you're brother is a lot like my brother, and there is something about that girl that makes them want to talk. Now, did you scoff all my pizza?"

Dom giggled manically, as only five year olds that HAVE eaten all of Daddy's pizza can.

"No! Max did too!"

Dante chuckled, then looked over at Nero, who was scowling at the conversing duo.

"Hey," he said quietly, transferring his son to his other hip, so he wasn't in the middle of their conversation.

"What's up, Kid?"

"Nuthin'." Was Nero's depressed, and standard, reply.

"C'mon, you're more emo than ever, just starin' at Max and the other, _other_ Kid. Spill."

Nero sighed, and looked over at Dante, his face more sombre than the older man was used to.

"I was just thinkin'… If she… hadn't have died … Would we have kids now?"

Dante shifted Dom's weight to his back, then sighed, touching Nero's shoulder lightly.

"I dunno, Kid. No one can, no matter how much you brood about it." He tipped Nero's chin up, eyes mischievous.

"Besides, you got two odd ball nut jobs right here that keep you on your toes as it is. Imagine another one."

"We have another one, Dante." Nero said, face serious and eyes blazing. "She's talking to your eldest son."

Dante threw a nervous look in their direction – that settled when he saw his eldest laughing. Max didn't laugh, not like Dom ever did.

But then again, Vergil never laughed like he did either.

Dante was constantly worried about how his two boys were going to end up. Towards each other, towards humans, towards demons. He couldn't help but compare himself and Vergil's relationship as kids to his own.

And now he knew, that Vergil _did_ have a heart and take a kid in, that was as good as his daughter.

Had he of ever thought his brother like that, Dante would've never fought with him. He just got angry when all Vergil did was brood over nothing.

And when Dom got angry with Max, Dante understood, but didn't condone that fact. He usually just made them realise that Max didn't like talking as much as Dom did, and that settled them down.

For about three minutes.

Nero, of course, would try to help out: but there was one of him and two of them, and that made him the favourite, which then meant he had to have a favourite too.

They never did solve that conflict, they just stayed away from it. Very far away from it.

With like, battle armour on.

Dante sighed, and bucked Dom higher up his back.

"So now what am I gunna eat, huh? Does that mean I get to eat you?"

"No, Daddy!" Dom giggled, trying to squirm away from Dante's tickling fingers.

"Well you ate my pizza, and just 'cuz it's in your tummy means I get to eat it out!"

Dom giggled and squealed accordingly, shouting various "Daaaaddddyyyy's!" and "Quiiiit iiiiiit's!" at the top of his lungs.

Nero didn't care. He was watching Rachel interact with Max like a hawk.

She made a move, too fast a move, getting way too close to Max's head for comfort, when Nero snapped forward and set the boy on his shoulder's.

"Hey, Max." he said in a false bright voice, looking up at the surprised kid's eyes. "Let's go play some chess, you still like chess, right?"

"Yeah, but you can't play." The boy pointed out, trying to ease himself away from Nero's shoulders gently.

"I can." Said the girl smugly, cocking an eyebrow at Nero, who sneered back at her.

"You're on house arrest." He snapped.

"And what, you play chess in the pouring rain, do you? _Kid_?"

Nero snarled, his upper lip pulling over his teeth.

Max's hands stroked the sides of his face.

"Don't get so worked up, Uncle Nero." He said calmly. "She's just teasing."

Nero looked up, and Max looked down, small smile on his lips.

"I don't like her." Said Nero bitterly, like the five year old could understand his misery.

The boy nodded like he could, patting his cheeks. "I know."

"Yeah, well, you still started it." Rachel pointed out, legs swinging over the edge of the bed.

Nero glowered.

"Hey, Rachel." He spat through gritted teeth.

"Hm?" was her sarcastically optimistic reply.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

"I will."

"Go ahead."

"I said shut up!"

"I said make me!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!" bellowed Dante, scarring Dom halfway off his hip. "What are you two, three years old? You can fight it out when Rachel has recovered-"

"I've recovered enough to land him flat on his ass." Rachel seethed, standing up.

"When I say you've recovered enough," Dante said loudly, half drowning out her sentence before it was done. "Then you can fight him. 'Till then, Nero, get yer arse down stairs."

Nero mumbled about 'bossy old men' the entire way down.

Dante let Dom down and he followed excitedly after Nero, hollering "Wait for meeeeeeeeee!"

Dante looked up, smirking slightly.

"Nice job, by the way, getting him on the floor." He said with a small snicker. "Lunch'll be up soon."

"Hey." She said, as his back started to turn.

He looked over his shoulder. Her head was turned away from him blatantly.

"He's… cool."

"Who, Max?"

It took her a while before she answered.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "Makes me think of what Master Vergil was like when he was a kid. He told me a bit, about you 'n' that…But not much."

Dante turned around fully and leaned on the doorframe.

"Listen, Kid, I know I come off dumb and sometimes I don't get chicks 'n' mood swings." He said, then sighed.

"But 'cuz you're like him, I get that you don't get a lot of praise back at home. I'd even bet my kid's lives that he didn't tuck you in at night, and didn't make an effort to get you fed all that often."

She turned and glared, but didn't protest. His smile faltered.

"I'm not like him, at all; and I know you can see it in my face just as much as you could tell the difference between our clothes. So, I know how you're feeling now, even if you don't want me to. You're gunna try 'n' hide how angry you are. And now I've pointed that out, you'll probably bruise my ego and leave me for dead. But-"

He took a deep breath, then grinned.

"-it's gunna take a lot more to get rid of my ego then a couple angry jabs, let me tell you. Damn thing's the size of Canada, and still growin'."

And that made the girl's lips twitch, even if she refused to look at him. He didn't really expect much more.

From across the hall, Nero's face was scowling as Dante left her, and the door, wide open.

He had never spoken to _him_ like that.

He had never spent time with _him _that way.

He had never so much as lowered his obnoxious voice, save for when he was around the kids.

So Nero made his decision.

He hated the girl across the hall with a passionate rage fuelled from Hell's own fiery depths.

And he would make her life Hell.


	10. The man Safety

**Lol.**

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**I'm fighting the need to write.**

**I will never, and have never, owned DMC. Trust me, if I did, Rachel would replace Kyrie.**

**Ciao! TehOdd1 xoox**

_**Recap:**_

From across the hall, Nero's face was scowling as Dante left her, and the door, wide open.

He had never spoken to _him_ like that.

He had never spent time with _him _that way.

He had never so much as lowered his obnoxious voice, save for when he was around the kids.

So Nero made his decision.

He hated the girl across the hall with a passionate rage fuelled from Hell's own fiery depths.

And he would make her life Hell.

* * *

I opened my bruised eyes slowly. Dante had given me a big ass vital star a little awkwardly, and then almost ran outta the room.

That had been almost a week ago, and since then, I'd healed.

Physically.

Whenever I thought of my Master, it was…painful. Like, in my chest, as if I had been stabbed and twisted my lungs around the blade, as in it was self inflicted pain. (Trust me, I'd know.)

I couldn't be angry at him. Dante. He was... nice, to say the very least, and that was something that I couldn't really account for in my life. Not that my Master was mean, he was just... Stoic.

And besides, I was used to it. Having Dante around was like having a little kid around.

But having Max around was like having Master Vergil around. A minnie Master. And I knew, in the back of my head, that this kid and I would be the very best of friends. Purely because I was used to his kind of humour, and his kind of aura.

I made my way downstairs, returning Nero's glare and winking at the twins, who struggled to close one eye back.

Trish handed me a plate of toast without a single word. I ate it in silence.

So, my predicament was, I couldn't hate Dante, even if he took me away and made my Master Vergil upset and all the rest of it. He was nice.

That goes without saying that I wasn't nice back. I tried to be hateful, and that failed. I tried to be nice, but couldn't. Weather it was because I wasn't used to the way he treated me, or because I felt that I should rightfully spit acid in his drinks when he wasn't looking, I couldn't tell.

So I found a happy medium. I teased, and I taunted and I generally pissed him off: but it was Nero that I teased and taunted and pissed off instead.

He he he.

Kid loses it, every time I call him 'Kid', so it's my secret card. I take out all my anger on him. I hate that guy with a burning passion. I don't get what I did to make him so damn mad at me, but he just tries to glare a hole in the side of my head every time I make an appearance.

I got up and left when Nero made an appearance, and I didn't hide the fact, waving my hand in front of my nose and saying: "Yep, Dom is playing with something dead again."

He scowled.

I smirked.

So I did what I normally did when Nero kicked me out of a room : I talked to Dante.

We were sitting in the longue room, eating some cold pizza and talking - well, I was more listening and nodding appropriately in the places where he stopped to breathe - where as he just went on and on and on.

"...And I said to him, I got real close to his face and said : 'It's your lucky day, punk. Now beat it.' And this demon, he starts shaking, right? And I think that maybe this kid ain't gunna run, like, he's still there minus a male appendage or two, and I'm thinkin' 'Noice. Tough guy, at last. Haven't had one of those since Trish was preggers.' So I lift my finger to go poke him in the chest, I swear, that's all I was gunna do, and he pissed himself."

"Like, literally?"

"Yeah." he says toughly, lifting his arm and flexing the muscles. "I'm kinda awesome like that."

I giggled a little. Nero snorted from behind me.

I tried my best to ignore him in front of Dante, and especially Trish. The kids thought we were playing, so they were cool. Only I had to keep a lid on the swearing: otherwise, Dom'd tell Dante, and I'd get in shi-...Trouble.

After a while of being regarded with many a tale of how Dante managed to kick ass, I was zoning out.

I couldn't stop thinking about my Master. Everything about Dante was different, like suddenly living with a woman instead of a man. You know the little things?

Master Vergil had a thirteen piece settee that simultaneously matched the walls and the carpet. Everything spelt clean and airy and fresh. We always had a supply of fruits and coffee in the house, and really, that was all Dante and my Master had in common.

An obsession with caffeine.

I remembered things, when I was with Dante, that I shouldn't have. Like the way he looked at Trish, straight in the face even though her boobs were like, hanging out. The way he would be so aloof, and then when she'd walk into the room he'd prick up, like a dog that sees food.

Only, in a more romantic sense.

My mind just picked up my memories, dusted them off, and decided to remind me of how good my life was a few months ago.

*

"... Rachel, are you listening to me?" my master's droning voice peaked, vexed.

I was eight. Staring out the window, instead of taking notes, and thinking about how nice it would be to go into the other room and keep reading _Romeo and Juliet_.

"Yes, Master Vergil." I replied, sending him a quick nod. "You were talking about the properties of demonic blood."

His eyes hardened, the way they did when I was about to get in trouble. They didn't really harden, they just went a little greyer than normal.

"I was talking about _that _subject about forty minutes ago. I am currently _attempting_ to tell you about the lore of demonic entities."

I cringed, and straightened in my seat, swallowing silently.

"I'm sorry, Master. It won't happen again." I said solemnly.

He sighed and shut his book, placing it down on his desk and standing up. He strolled around to the front of it, and leaned against it, his arms folding over his chest.

"And what, pre tell, was so fascinating out the window?"

I looked down, my face going red. How was I going to tell him that instead on fantasizing about killing things, like I usually did, or devising ways on how to best him, I was thinking about the love of two teenagers and the drama in between?

"N-...Nothing out the window, Master." At least I didn't lie. Which he would see right through. Generally I had to go with half truths to ever think about cheating him.

Not that I ever did.

"Indeed." he said, and I heard him stand before he had me up by the collar of my shirt, pressed against the wall. His eyes swept over my face, and I stared as blankly as I could back at him, my hands limp at my sides.

"What has you so riveted in your seat that you neglect my possibly life saving information in order to study it more closely?" he growled out. "Do tell."

"Nothing worth knowing about, Master." I said, staring directly into his face. "Silly female thoughts, naturally."

"Divulge," he demanded, dropping me to the floor, and looking down his nose at me. "In hope that I will grow a better understanding with you."

I could feel my blush touch my cheeks - then break all out over my face. I dropped my head and stared at the floor, begging something, _anything,_ to distract him.

Nothing happened. He just tapped his boot.

"I'm waiting, Rachel."

I swallowed, and mumbled : "Romeo and Juliet."

I could almost hear his cocked brow.

"Romeo...And Juliet."

"Yes, Master."

I could almost hear the raised eyebrow.

"As in... Shakespeare."

"Yes, Master." I cringed. I didn't want him to think me weak.

But then he did the most curious thing: something, that if you knew him, you would never expect him to do... He knelt down in front of me and tipped my chin up.

His eyes were no longer grey. I was off the hook.

"And here was I thinking you were no more female than myself." he said, and by then I had handle enough on his repressed emotions that I could assume he was amused. "Tell me, Rachel, what do you think?"

*

"...Rachel? What d'you think?"

Dante's voice popped my proverbial balloon. I almost got mad enough to hurl the couch at him. Instead, I sighed, and rubbed my eyes tiredly. Nero insisted on having his music on, loud enough to keep me up all night, but soft enough not to wake the kids. Or Trish, heaven forbid.

"What do I think about what, Dante?"

"Two large Hawaiian's and a medium Coke, or two large Hawaiian's and a medium Pepsi?"

"Well, I've only ever had Coke once, and it kinda hurt my teeth." I told him, rubbing the back of my neck. "Maybe you should ask Max?"

Dante's jaw was dropped and the phone slipped out of his hand, landing with a plastic-on-wood clacking sound.

"No seriously." he said, kinda mortified. "Which do you like better, Coke or Pepsi?"

"Uhm...No seriously, how well do you know Master Vergil?"

He groaned, and rubbed his face with his hand, shaking his head.

"Too well," he amended, into his hand. "I should've known. But at least tell me you have had pizza?"

"Uhm...Yeah, yeah o' course!"

And he beamed at me, going to grab the phone.

Then I added: "But they were homemade, and I was only allowed to have cheese and asparagus on it."

I believe his reaction was as such : *face palm*

"Chocolate?"

"Limited amounts. Only when I had cravings, and even then, he'd let me suffer."

"Ice cream?"

"Uh, I had an ice-cream cake for my seventh birthday...But the candle wouldn't light so Master got shitty, dumped it in the bin and we went out for sushi."

"Starburst Babies?"

"What are they?"

"Fairy floss?"

"The stuff fairy's use to clean their teeth?"

"That's not even funny kid." he said, and he actually looked a little pale. "You are ridiculously deprived."

I rolled my eyes. "How bad can it be? I mean, I'm ignorant to sugar induced highs and calories and love handles. I have a completely healthy body, Dante, and I'm grateful for it."

"But you don't even have _boobs_."

I cocked an eyebrow.

He shook his head.

"Wait, that sounded old man perverted, didn't it?"

"You bet your wrinkly old ass it did." I chuckled, easing back into the couch a little.

I liked being able to swear. It was a part of language I was rarely allowed to condone in, with my Master.

Ouch. See? How my heart kinda fell out of my bullet holed chest and is now currently flopping around like a fish outta water?

Yeah. Even thinking his _name_ hurts.

"What I mean is, girls have boobs because boobs are for chicks and they're made up of like, fat right? And you wear a really tight get up, all shorts and that bra thing, yeah? And I – as a male who is clearly spoken for – noticed all the scars on your arms and legs, m'kay? So, naturally, when you have pecs…like, actual flexible pecs, I was a tad shocked."

I snorted. Then flexed my aforementioned 'pecs'.

He gaped.

"I don't care about my boobs, Dante." I said evenly, still clenching and unclenching the muscles in my chest. "How the hell would I fight with them? I don't care if Trish and Lady can, that's beside the point. They grew up with them."

He opened his mouth, probably to point out I was deprived again, but I cut him off.

"Weren't you ordering your pizza and baby bursts or something?"

Dante blinked a little dumbly. Then:

"Max," he called, a little weakly. "C'mere, Max."

Max, in red pants and a _Mummy's Little Devil_ tee, skidded into the room and grinned up at his dad.

"What up, G?" he said brightly, white blonde hair flicked to the right side of his forehead.

Dante pointed, without looking at his son. "She's never had a pizza. Or ice cream. Or fairy floss."

"What about starburst babies?" Max asked, completely horrified. "Dad... Please tell me-"

"Never." Dante said dramatically, and Max groaned, much like his father had, and slapped his face.

"She thinks they go on pizzas."

"Well, it is a good idea…"

"Not when she thinks they're actual babies."

Slightly vexed, I got up and left the room unnoticed, as the two were discussing the injustice of my less than normal diet. I think I heard them planning to tie me down to a chair and force feed me said babies until I admitted their glory.

I whished them the very best of luck.

Making my way up to my room, I ran into Nero, who hip and shouldered me into the wall.

Instead of smashing his head into the wall to prove my superiority, I ignored him and kept walking to my room.

Dante hadn't put me on room arrest since I just found ways to break out. He said he could trust me not to run, and that I could trust he would find me, if I did.

I was so lost in my thoughts I didn't really think of what I was doing until I was in Dante's room, with his sock drawer open and a bunch of dank socks in my hand.

"What am I doing?" I murmured, tossing the dodgily bundled socks down.

I think I was looking for photos. I knew Dante would have one, because my Master had one, and if a person like him had one, Dante would - _should,_ definitely have a memoir too, right? My logic is good, right?

I pulled all the socks out and found not one, but three photos that had me reduced to a shaking, simpering idiot.

I turned, completely oblivious to Dante ducking sheepishly behind the door way, followed closely by Nero. I was staring so intently at the pictures I was half scared they were going to combust in flame.

I was in my room with in that very same second.

With a shaking hand, I flicked open my suitcase and dug out my five, very much loved photographs. The only ones my Master had let me take, and keep. Until now, I didn't understand why.

It turns out they were staged much like his own were.

The first two photos, the ones that had no significance at all to Dante, was one Mira had taken, with me seven feet in the air, and my Master ready to catch me. He had thrown me up there in the first place, to see if I was scared of heights, but when he'd caught me and I laughed and asked him to do it again, he rolled his eyes.

"I do it to myself." he'd muttered.

"At least you get a good work out on you're ar- WOAH!!!!"

The next one was of my Master's spine. And shoulders. And arms.

At the time, I didn't understand why my Master had let me keep such a photo, but now I certainly did.

It was extremely flattering.

The contours of his muscled back and shoulders were in shadow, the spikes of his hair lank with sweat. He was showing me discipline, by holding himself in a very difficult pose for twenty four hours.

The pose itself was alot like the crucified Christ, with his arms out and one foot on top of the other. Supporting him were two simple metal poles he later used to teach me how to use anything to my advantage, but stick with my weapon.

The next photo, and this is where I started to feel homesick, was two boys on a swing set, the red one swung high in the air, laughing with his eyes shut tight, while the blue one gave the camera a small, shy smile, barely swinging.

There was a man with his hands wrapped around the blue one's chains, smirking at the person behind the camera, with his head cocked much like Dante's usually was. There was a flushing green tree in the back ground, a few leaves yellowing and on the floor. The sun broke through the gaps in the leaves, lighting up the magical scene.

I shuffled through my most treasured possessions until I found the one that fit the bill. My photo was almost completely white, because of the snow. It was me on a swing, wrapped up to my eyeballs in a fat purple jacket, giving the camera a little smile, whilst my Master stood behind me with a formal air, his head cocked, and a small, barely traceable smile on his face too.

That was the first time I had ever left the house. I was five years old. It was about a week after my Master took care of the bullying problem. Mirabella was at the airport, and I was sick with some cold, and 'couldn't be trusted home alone.' So he'd given the nearest Pumpkin patch worker three hundred dollars, and told her to prepare me for snow. We were waiting for Mira to land when I spotted the swing, and tried to drag Master Vergil over to it. He, of course, gave me his best 'I'm-far-too-awesome/high-and-mighty-for-such-petty-things' look, when I pulled my puppy eyes and skipped over there any way, he didn't really have a choice. Mira had one photo left on her disposable camera, and we were it.

The second photo:

A blue and red decked training arena. The walls were bare, but I spotted a fireplace to the left corner of the picture. The teenage boy in blue sweats to the left, with a white tee on, his hair slicked back and sword deflecting a blow: while the teen aged boy in red stabbed out at him, black tank top, red basket ball shorts. There was a smug look on the blue one's face. The other boy's lip was drawn up, snarling, because he knew it was another battle he'd just forfeited.

My photo was taken by Mira, so it was a little off centre. The training room, under both ground and a little wooden shack, was always cold and grey. Weapons of all sorts lined the walls - not unlike Dante and his trophies. My Master stood on the left in a perfect stance, as he did in Dante's photo, deflecting the stab with victory in his sights. He was shirtless in my photo, but still in what looked to be the same, faded blue sweats. I was the one on the right, in my tiny red short shorts and black tank, all sweaty and red. I too, looked really annoyed I'd already lost another match.

The third photo was the worst. I felt tears clog my throat up, if that can actually happen.

It was a small Christmas tree. There were a few small gifts under it and an abundance of over decorating, which looked fire hazardous. Dante had his arms around my Master's shoulders with his chin planted on his head, beaming at the camera. The teenage boy, who looked mildly pleased with the two short swords in his hand, looked up at his brother.

It really was a beautiful photo.

Freakishly like mine.

The small tree, only with a few measly decorations because we'd forgotten to go and buy them. Hey, we were studying something so important I can't remember the name of it. Shut up.

There were a total of six presents under our tree that year: two for Mira, who'd done everything Christmas wise, two for my Master, and two for me. It wasn't like my Master didn't give me presents: he gave me lots of things, all the time. But I was surprised when his present for me popped up there randomly.

I had given Mira a silver necklace with a small diamond on the end. My master gave her two giant ruby drop earrings, passing it off as : "Well I have no use for them, do I?"

(I suggested Marti Gra, only in my head. Would you be game to say it out loud?)

Mira had brought my Master a sword cleaning kit, which he was actually grateful for, and I had brought him a book, entitled: "How To Understand The Actions of Your Teenage-" but I had scribbled out every "Daughter" in the book, replacing it with "Rachel." It was so funny, trying to keep writing my own name over a title. It said stupid things like : _"...And remember, your teenage Rachel is just like every other teenage Rachel out there: full of hormones and ready to do what it is all teenage Rachel's do."_

Or even: "..._It is not uncommon for your teenage Rachel to tack the name of a male counter part on hers, or declare her undying love to boys (or girls: see page 429) of her age."_

But my fave was: "_Teenage Rachel's are known for their irrevocable love of chocolate, and shiny, expensive things."_

He studied it intently.

And as for me? Mira had given me a basket full of toffee, and the frilly pink dress that had never been worn. (That was to hide my toffee, although I'm pretty sure Master Vergil could smell it.)

Master Vergil gave me something I never did get over: a small blue pendant on a fine silver chain, oval shaped and plain, (giggle, I made a rhyme!) only full to the brim with magic that would call my master to me if ever I needed him. Like a kind of, radio/homing beacon. I don't think he knew I knew what it was, because when I asked him about it, he said. very plainly : "Girls like jewellery." And didn't explain.

I wear it on it's chain which sits over my heart.

The photo was exactly like Dante's, except for two short hand swords, my book was open in his lap.

I felt tears slide over my cheeks. He tried so hard for me, and I never once took the time out to say that I loved everything he did for me: or that I loved him. Not until the day he kicked me out. Not until the day that I wanted mercy from him.

I had never begged for mercy before. When he'd thrown me in the dam. When he'd beaten me to unconsciousness with a stick. When he'd made me go hungry for five days for playing with Yamato. When he'd almost broken my fingers by bending them back, demanding to know what boy had dared to call the house looking for me.

I never said to let up. To lay off.

"Oh, God." I sobbed, touching the photo with my smiling face on it. "Just kill me now. Have mercy on me, please, god."

It wasn't until Nero had said something that I realised he was in the room, with Dante leaning on the doorframe. His face was sad. Nero's face was set.

"Excuse me?" I said shrilly, getting to my feet.

"I said," Nero growled a demon growl at me, and folded his arms over his chest. "'He won't'. God won't have mercy for you. He didn't have mercy for me, and I've saved the world. So man up, you little snob, and stop the begging. It isn't becoming of you."

I was shocked. For all of about two seconds. Then I remembered that Nero was an asshole and could go die in a hole. I stood up, the forgotten photos slipping from my fingers and drifting in sad silence to the floor.

Their twin memory beside them.

"Just because you asked doesn't mean you asked _nicely_." I bit back, wiping my face for trace (I'm at it again!) of tears. "And because you _think_ you've saved the world doesn't mean you've done it."

He sneered. Coupled with those horrific eyes and arm, it made for a scary picture.

"Oh yeah? And what have you done that's worth God noticing? Blasphemy? Kill anything innocent lately? Maybe a little bit of envy in the mix?"

"Well I sin like any _normal. Human_." I said through gritted teeth.

He bared his own, human hand closing self consciously over the wrist of his not-so-human one.

"How dare you?!"

"Quite easily, I assure you."

Dante stepped forwards.

"That's enough, both of you. Nero, get out of-"

"Butt the hell out, you asshole." Nero snapped.

And for some reason, the wounded expression on Dante's face had me arcing up something chronic.

"Nero, kid, just calm-"

"DON'T YOU TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!" Nero roared, and something breakable slid off a wall and smashed, though I couldn't be effed looking.

I was too busy glaring at the back of a snow white head.

"I'VE BEEN NOTHING BUT GOOD TO YOU, AND THE KIDS, AND PUTTING UP WITH TRISH'S BITCHING! EVEN WITH KYRIE DIEING, I TRIED SO HARD FOR YOU-!"

"Boo hoo, you pansy arse." I sneered, my upper lip lifting. He whirled on his heel at me. "Some bitch dies, big whoop. I bet she didn't just chuck you out of the house and tell you to get gone."

For a second. Just one, measly second, I felt the sorrow in the air. I felt my face flush and knew I'd gone to far. I even opened my mouth to apologise.

Then: "Yeah you're right. What, suckin' dick didn't cover the rent anymore?"

I lunged at Nero with the physical graciousness of a lethal feline and grievous bodily harm in mind. Just how I had been taught, like I had been taught to defend my Master's honour.

I caught him around the throat. He caught me around the waist, both his hands overlapping. Either I was ridiculously skinny, or he had big assed hands.

Or, you know, a combination of both.

He stumbled back and I hooked my ankles around the back of his knees, tugging, bringing him to the floor.

I was barely aware of Dante trying to tug us apart: but now Nero was punching at my ribs and face, whilst I pulled his nose up and slammed his head down. Somehow Dante got involved, and instead of tearing us apart he was throwing twice as many punches in both directions. I felt Dante's elbow whizz past my face as my knuckles collided with something vaguely feeling like a mushy rib beneath me. I saw Nero wheeze at that, but it didn't stop his punch landing in Dante's jaw, or the demon enhanced hand start to strangle me.

At first, Nero managed to keep Dante preoccupied with one, human hand, and I punched and bit and clawed at every part of his face. Then I couldn't see straight, and I tore at the rocks around my throat.

Dante noticed, three seconds too late.

I could see such a bright, warm light, and someone I knew only as Safety, standing before me, in all their billowing robed glory.

I let my last breath go with a single word, and smiled, knowing that everything was going to be alright.

"Vergil..."


	11. She's His WHAT?

**This is me disclaiming.**

**Me: *flipping the bird***

**Otherwise, enjoy.**

**Oh, and I didn't have any logical way of getting to a spell check...so any and all mistakes will be revised. **

**Later.**

**TehOdd1 xoox**

****** Recap ******  
At first, Nero managed to keep Dante preoccupied with one, human hand, and I punched and bit and clawed at every part of his face. Then I couldn't see straight, and I tore at the rocks around my throat.

Dante noticed, three seconds too late.

I could see such a bright, warm light, and someone I knew only as Safety, standing before me, in all their billowing robed glory.

I let my last breath go with a single word, and smiled, knowing that everything was going to be alright.

"Vergil..."

*******

His name was whispered on the wind, which had gone sickeningly warm, tasting of war and debris. If the wind could be a colour, any colour at all, it would certainly be grey.

Her soul was calling for him.

His eyes flew open, and although he lay with a very enticing demoness on his chest, he sat up bolt right, and dug his nails into her arms.

"Mmm…What is it?" she asked sleepily. Then in an abrupt, egger voice: "Time for round seven?"

"My prodigy." He said abruptly, easing her away from him with as much grace as he could muster after a rather breathtakingly satisfying night of hardcore sex.

Oh yes. Vergil had sex, like a normal half human/half demon male did. He was just _**really**_ picky, was all.

Throwing the blankets off his legs, Vergil stood and looked around, searching for his clothes. He found his pants at the doorway, being the first item of clothing to go, and slipped them on. He usually went commando any way.

"You're…? The girl, the one you had me banished from your sight for."

"Yes." he replied easily, finding his right boot and slipping it on.

He_ had _had her banished from his sight because she was mothering Rachel, and he knew what happened when subjects were mothered: they ended up like his brother. Callous, emotional, and unrefined.

So he told her, under no circumstances did he so much want to _smell_ he anywhere near his prodigy. If she did, he would kill her.

Or, you know. Make furious love to her and send her on her merry little way.

He straightened, saw her raised eyebrow, and frowned.

"Vergil, please, she's been gone less than a month and you're already starting to fret. You're far too highly strung, and you shouldn't be after what we..." her lashes lowered over a pair of startlingly golden eyes. "Well, you know 'what we'. Perhaps you're dreaming, love?"

"I'm not dreaming." he said fitfully (as 'fitfully' as Vergil can get, which isn't very much at all), finding his white under shirt and putting it over his arm. "I hear her calling for me. She's in trouble."

_Besides_, he told himself again, _she is far too attractive._

She distracted him at the best of times. And the week that his mistress slept under the same roof as his Prodigy, he had nightmares about Rachel walking in on them becoming intimate.

Something he experienced as a child. Let's not go there.

"She is in trouble." He repeated, just to clarify with the demoness before him. (and rid his mind of dirty, unwanted thoughts.)

"I thought you said she was with you're brother?" the woman asked, sliding her legs over the edge of the bed. Her precious long hair, red as the flame, fell down her spine. Vergil's eyes traced the contours of his lover.

"Vergil? Isn't she with Dante?" the woman asked again, turning her head to cock another eyebrow at him.

Regaining his composure, he nodded. "She is." He replied easily, fishing his shirt out from the tangles of the chandelier over head. "That's probably why she's in the trouble she's in."

"Vergil, darling, how can you hear her from all the way over here?" the woman asked, finding her bra and dress and sliding them both on efficiently and quickly. "I assume some form of magic is involved?"

"Indeed. I couldn't have her just... mosying about, Integra. She would, eventually, need me." he said dryly, becoming exceedingly vexated as he searched for his left boot.

"Vergil." his lady Integra said softly, from just behind him.

He sighed, silently asking the sky why he put himself in such difficult postions, and turned.

She held his boot out to him, a small smile on her porcelian face.

"Next to the bottom of the bed, for future reference." she said smoothly, then gave him a fanged grin and said: "The last time you left me, Vergil, you left for eleven years. For another, younger, woman. One can't help but wonder what's so appealing about you're student that I can't give you."

He frowned as he put the remainer of his clothes on, searching for an answer sutible to the question at hand. Frankly, he didn't know why he was so frantically leaving the woman he could have as he wanted in favour for the girl he just rid himself of. He assumed it was his human parental side, and cursed his mother for the breed that she was.

"Integra." he said calmly, turning to her, watching as the strap of her airy blue dress slid over the curve of her shoulder. "The only answer I offer is a mundane riddle I have been trying to figure out then last eleven years of my existance."

Integra blinked, then tipped her head to the side. Her red locks cascaded to the chosen side, and Vergil wasted no time in snatching it up to smell.

"A riddle?" she asked, her feminine voice making his eyelids lower subconsiously.

Somewhere in the more sophisticated, demonic side of him, a voice was saying: _That's hardly fair, how dare she use that tone of voice to lure me into her clutches! Wrech! I must go to my legacy!_

But then, in the more humane side of him, the lusty, abomination that hardly got a word in, was saying: _But you like it, don't you? You WANT that tone of voice and perhaps you REVEL in it purely because you know where it will lead. To sex._

"A riddle." he repeated, and his voice sounded very far away, even unto himself. "Why do I care for the girl that has no wordly connection to me? That, by right and demon standard, is below me?"

The woman sighed, offering him her neck.

"I can only guess." she said, as he moved over her skin with the tip of his nose, his mouth watering. "But try as I might, I can't help being jealous."

At that, Vergil let a small chuckle go and denied himself the pleasure of one more kiss of those willing lips. Instead, he kissed her fore head and touched her jaw with the tips of his fingers.

"I will come back for you." he said quietly, sincerely.

"I would expect so."

"I won't be taking eleven years."

"I would expect nothing less than ten."

"You have alot of expectations, my lady." he said abruptly, cocking an eyebrow. "What if I never do return?"

"Then I will wither into a useless husk." she replied, without a single thought or pause.

Then thinking on what she said, she dropped her head, and shied away from his hands, muttering something about him leaving.

He smiled into her shoulder and kissed the exposed skin before managing to drag himself away.

"I _will_ be back." he promised at the door, stopping only long enough to see her flushed look face him. Then he disappeared into a black hole and came out the other side, thinking madly over everything that might've gone wrong, and how he would deal with it.

The worst case scenario?

Dante had killed her.

And if he had?

Vergil would kill Dante.

It was that simple, really.

He wouldn't be holding back, whishing upon whish that his little brother would see sense and join him in his search for power. He wouldn't be talking, delaying the moment when he would cut his brother's head from his neck. He wouldn't be feeling sorry, every time he drew blood.

He would kill him with ease.

His lady Integra had only met his prodigy briefly, when she was of a tender and careful age. Although a character at the ripe old age of four, she was understandably shy of the woman with such startling golden eyes and fangs.

As much as he wanted the two to have some kind of connection, he kept his personal life and his business life separate.

Still, he had known the woman longed for him over the last eleven years. He had longed for her, and in all honesty: he may be skilled with his hands, but he wasn't _that_ skilled.

And if he was going to be reasonable (fat chance), he would deduct that his actions were more than deplorable, because in reality, Integra had as much right to his prodigy as he did.

Because what's his was hers. Because he had taken a vow. Because he had sworn his love and devotion to her in front of a church.

Integra had as much a right to any heir he deemed worthy, because she was his wife.


	12. Guardian

**I don't own Devil May Cry. **

**Once again, my heart breaks a little and I die on the inside. Just by typing that.**

**Are you happy now?**

**TehOdd1 xoox**

****** Recap ******

And if he was going to be reasonable (fat chance), he would deduct that his actions were more than deplorable, because in reality, Integra had as much right to his prodigy as he did.

Because what's his was hers. Because he had taken a vow. Because he had sworn his love and devotion to her in front of a church.

Integra had as much a right to any heir he deemed worthy, because she was his wife.

*******

I was staring into the eyes of a red, gawking fish the size of a small car. It wasn't behind glass, and I wasn't in water. Both parties in this little mind twist are alive.

Well, either that, or we're both dead.

The fish opened and closed it's mouth, admitting a low sucking sound that made me screw up my face and take a small step back.

It swum forward in the air, then, somehow nuzzled my throat with it's giant lower lip, covered it fish slobbers.

"Eugh, fish drool. Now I've seen everything except a man eating his own head."

I pushed it away - it felt silky and dry, but still alive - and turned to the side to see a silver eyed doe giggling.

Like, giggling. I don't mean the dodgy, 'oh, it faintly resembles a human reaction to something humourus', gig, I mean it put it's paw-y clod hopper over it's mouth and giggled.

Like a school girl with a crush.

I gaped, just as the fish had done to me.

"Oh, don't mind Craig." the doe said, to which I blinked dumbly. "He likes humans, he dosen't get to see you lot that often, so, you know."

I nodded like I did, then turned to Craig the car sized fish, and blinked.

"That deer is talking to me." I informed him dumbly.

He nodded. His big, plate sized eyes swivelled to the side, and I followed, noticing a flimsy wire rack with brochures on it. I started to walk over suspiciously, stumbling in my white linen dress.

Wait.

"Ew, a dress?! Seriously?!" I kind of, squealed. I tugged at the golden ropes that bound it to my waist, and tried to tug it off but it wouldn't budge. I was starting to sweat when the deer came over and giggled some more.

"Oh, come now, darl, it makes you look very pretty." she said admirably. "Instead of those muscles being flaunted, now you have a pretty feminie dress. It makes your boobs look bigger."

I looked at my chest, mortified. Never, had I ever really had boobs before. Under my Master's training, in between bouts of health foods and neglecting to eat altogether, I didn't really have the chance.

But here, in this place - I had boobs. Big boobs. They were at least a D. And the muscels I so proudly 'flaunted'…Which I did, and rightfully so, I have an eight pack, and biceps to rival The Rock's… were…just…_mortifyingly_…GONE.

"AH! Get them off! I can't have boobs, they'll be the death of me! How am I supposed to wield my sword now?!" I all but yelled at the recoiling deer.

I tried to push my boobs off. Seriously, sat there, and stumbled and pushed until I tripped over Craig the giant red fish and landed on my ass.

"I-I...I have never met a girl, in all my years, that didn't want breasts." the deer said tearfully.

Craig the giant red fish swam up beside her and made his open-shut gobbing noises in condolence.

"I-...Look, I apologise for raising my voice, but honestly, it was just a shock." I said weakly, reaching out to pat the deer, then thinking that might be condescending and dropping my hand.

The deer sniffled. "Oh, I just thought you were a late bloomer, so I...It fills the dress." she mumbled sadly.

I was very confused.

Was I dead? If I was dead, why were there no other people around? And why were there talking animals? How did I die? Why would the deer give me boobs? HOW did the deer give me boobs? AND WHY WAS I WEARING A DRESS?

"Lana, that's enough." said a sharp voice.

I scrambled to my feet and turned with my fists raised but all I saw was a giant eagle, perched on the wire rack. I lowered my fists, scowling a little.

"I suppose you talk too?" I asked boldly, puffing out my more than ample chest. (the only thing it was good for, and then again, muscle was far more intimidating.)

"Indeed I do." the eagle replied bitterly. Then he sniffled, spread his wings, and landed on the deer's back.

"Look, pal, I'm more then a little confused, so if you could point me in the way of the nearest exit, that'd be cool." I said, my voice straining.

He turned a golden eye on me.

"Rachel, in all honesty, I don't care what you want. I have my orders, and none of them involve doing what you want. Now, go to the rack and read a brochure, please. Then we can talk."

I gaped.

"Close your mouth." the eagle sighed tiredly. "Before Fredward flies in."

"Fredward?"

"The fly."

Of course.

Instead of challenging his authority, which I had half a mind to do, I nodded as I made my way over to the rack of colourful brochures.

"Okay, no need to panic, I'm surrounded by talking animals, in a dress, with no weapon and possibly already dead. No worries." I mumbled to myself, stumbling in the restricting outfit.

"And I have boobs!" I wailed in afterthought.

The brochures ranged from 'How to Deal With Being Dead', to 'Now you're a Guardian!' and stuff like 'Limitless Time of Worries and Missing Family.'

"Pick the orange one, to the left." Lana the doe informed me, clopping over to my shoulder.

I pointed to the smallest one that said 'So, You've Been Chosen!'. She made an approving 'MM-hm!'

I slid it up and away from it's case. It was fluro orange, and with big green letters under the tittle said: 'Now what?'

Flicking the book open, I almost had a heart attack when I saw my own picture in the pages, doing as I was doing now.

"Read." the eagle said impatiently.

"Bite me." I snapped back, screwing up my nose at him.

He let out a piercing shriek and swooped over my head, taking a good chunk out of my left ear.

"Holy shit! OW!"

"Next time," he said, dropping a bit of ear at my feet. "Don't offer."

I made 'ouch'ing sounds and gathered up my dress to dab it at my ear.

"Darius." said a deep, slow voice that belonged to Craig. "Not nice."

Darius the bastard eagle, stopped the ouch-ing immediately, and sighed ruefully.

"You ruin all my fun." he said dryly. Then he turned his golden eyes on me and ordered me to read.

Sulkily, I did.

The first page in the booklet, the one with my picture, now had blood seeping down the better half of my left hand side. I checked real life. It matched.

Then a word caught my eye before I could curse Darius for making me bleed. The one, single word, was : "Vergil."

I started to read intently.

_Your Guardian couldn't be with you, because direct contact is limited between Guardian and human. _

_Your Guardian is just that: someone, or something assigned to you over your life span to ensure you're karma is in check and that you don't die before you're time._

_You're Guardian has sacrificed alot to ensure that you come here, to limbo, instead of straight to Heaven. That way you're body won't rot or anything nasty like that, so if you're saved then you will be able to return to it. You were not supposed to die just yet, even so, it was hard work all the same._

_Lana, the doe, will help you with any feminine questions or queries you have. She is the personal Guardian of Kyrie, who sent her to protect you. Also to redeem Nero, and offer you her apologies for him. You two will meet in due time._

_Craig, the fish, belongs to Dante. But as Dante is part demon and therefore impure, so is Craig. He cannot speak wholly, just a few words strung together. Darius belongs to Vergil, and he cannot truly fly. More glide, than anything._

_So sit back, relax, and wait until you are saved. _

_Or, in the more likely event you are left here alone for the rest of eternity while doctors and physicists poke and prod your un-decaying body._

"Lovely." I said disgustedly, because they had drawn a very vivid picture of what said doctors were going to be doing to my body.

My innards were currently being examined whilst the heart rate-o-meter thing that is always in those soaps show when the hottest dude/chick is about to cark it, (not that I watch them…when no one is looking…ahem.), was flat line, but they didn't seem surprised.

"So, I just do diddly squat until I'm 'saved'?"

"Indeed." Said my Master's eagle, a little uppity.

I glared at him.

"Look, pal, I didn't ask to be chucked in limbo, alright? My Guardian just did it, m'kay? So quit it with the asshole attitude. It's grating on my nerves."

If eagles could sneer, he would've been. It then occurred to me that the eagle was a lot like my younger Master, then.

Pristine, formal, deadly. Sarcastic, cold, and unforgiving.

I mean, he'd bitten a part of my ear off because I told him to bite me. No questions asked, just did it. No warnings, either, and because of that…

I smiled at the confused eagle, suddenly easing into the place in the clouds.

I felt at home.


	13. Repercussion

**I'm a horrible person, I know. I apologise for the lateness and mistakes in the following chapter (s).**

**Microsoft AND the Internet HATE me, along with every thing TECHNOLOGY ORIENTATED.**

**Otherwise, enjoy!**

**TehOdd1 xoox**

"Y-….You killed her." Dante said softly, his eyes wide and on the limp girl in his arms. He couldn't feel her pulse, couldn't see her pulse, couldn't hear her pulse.

She was dead.

But still warm.

"She isn't dead." Nero snapped coldly, obviously believing the girl had more strength than he gave her credit for, particularly of the throat.

"She's playing it up for sympathy. Little fuckin' midget bitch-"

"Nero. You conceded, egotistical bastard." Dante said in a firm voice, sounding like his brother, standing up with the body in his arms.

"You killed her."

Nero frowned at Dante, who should've known a faker when he saw it, then at the girl.

The welting from where his claw had deprived her of air was phenomenal. It was all the colours of the rainbow and in the places where his fingers had been, looked twice as thin as what it should've.

"She's not dead." Nero said again, his mind flashing back to the day Kyrie had died. His resolve faltered and he tried to touch her throat and find her pulse, but Dante pulled the girl closer to his chest, glaring at Nero between slits for eyes.

"She's not, Dante, she… can't be."

"Well guess what, kid." Dante said, his voice dark. "She is. And it's your fault. _Again_."

Nero ran to the bathroom and vomited.

****

"Nero," said a soft, sweet voice.

Nero clung to the scent of her, her essence, her beauty, even though his eyes were closed.

"Nero," she laughed such a feminine and tinkering laugh, he couldn't help but chuckle back and then she knew he was awake.

"I have to go and get ready for class." She whispered, and the way her hair spread out over his arm… he ran his fingers through it, and it was like spider's silk. It never knotted, and never went wrong.

Not that he noticed if it did. Because nothing went wrong on Kyrie.

"But it's Friday." He murmured sleeping, pulling her back to his chest with his human arm. The one she always slept on. Clung to. Held hands with.

"Surely they don't care if you're not there today? Can't you just tell 'em that you're sick or something?"

And when she laughed, oh, that laugh, it was like being sprinkled in happiness. He felt his cheeks go warm.

"No, Nero, the kids are going to be waiting for me, especially today. It's choir practice, remember?"

Was he supposed to remember that? He probably should. But he liked the way she said certain things, and 'remember' was one of them. He thought it was the way her lips moved. How could he 'remember' anything if he was always eyeing off her lips?

"Yeah, I mean, I guess. But then you're all mine, right?" he asked hopefully, and he could feel the way his eyes went hopeful.

The one thing that made him suspicious was the pause.

"Yes, Nero. Then I'm all yours."

But he forgot about the pause. He liked the way, 'yours' and 'Nero' looked on her too.

* * *

He hurled again at the thought of what he'd seen on her that had made him so mad.

Another man.

Nero couldn't push his head far enough into the toilet to muffle the sounds when Dom can bolting in, followed closely by Max.

"Uncle Nero! Uncle Nero! Wassamatter?" Dom next to cried, whilst Max, for reasons unknown, frowned over the top of his brother's head.

"I'm…" Nero started shakily. But he couldn't finish. He couldn't make the words out – _I'm unwell, guys, better go downstairs so you don't catch it._

He found his tongue moving instead, over the words – _I'm a murderer, better go downstairs before I get you too._

Dominick was slow usually, but today he was on the ball.

"How come Daddy isn't here? Where's Rach? Did she punch you in the face, 'cuz you're bleeding!"

"I'm…"

"Dom, shut up." Max drawled, and Nero's panicked eyes landed on him, _did he know_? "He's sick, that's all."

_Yeah, I'm sick alright_

, Nero wanted to say. _Sick enough to kill a girl 'cuz she talked back. Strangled her until she __stopped talking back__. Oh my God, I'm a murderer._

"Get out."

That was Dante's voice at the door. Nero went to stand, but Dante was glaring at the boys.

"Both of you. Now."

That was Daddy tone for : 'Do-Not-Cross-Me-I-Will-Smack-Your-Ass-Black-And-Blue.'

Usually Dom questioned everything – being Dante's son through and through. But today, with the rare, never before seen/ heard Daddy voice in check?

He almost bolted out of the room just as fast as he did in it.

Almost.

Because he had grabbed his brother's hand, and tried to tug, but Max was eyeing his father suspiciously, his eyes calculating as he did a once over of the looming man in red.

"Dad." he said quietly, and Nero could hear the little heart inside his chest beating at least two times faster than it should. "Why isn't Rachel here?"

"I said get out, Max." Dante said, and his voice was cold.

Max's eyes narrowed, and he turned to Nero.

Dom tugged his hand, confused, but Max pulled it away.

"She would be here, if she'd reduced you to this." he pointed out. "She doesn't like you, Uncle Nero. She would gloat."

"Hey, yeah." Dom said, perking instantly, because he too, liked the girl. "How come she ain't here, Uncle Ne-?"

"I SAID GET OUT!" Dante bellowed, and stomped his foot.  
It shook the entire house.

Dom's flamboyant blue eyes went watery. Max's did the same, if not for a moment, before he took his brother's hand and lead him away.

Dante watched them, unmoving, all the way under his arm and run down the stairs.

"Dante..." Nero managed weakly.

The elder's eyes swivelled to him. Without even knowing he had moved, Dante had pushed Nero up by the throat onto the wall opposing the door.

He could smell sweat, and fear, and the tang of vomit.

"This is what we're going to do." Dante said coldly. "We're going to tell the kids and Trish we're going with Rachel on a trip to the Savannah to hunt some Scorpions that are raising hell over there. We're going to tell Trish that her and the kids can't come because this particular breed feed on older women and children. We're going to put Rachel in the car and pretend that she is alive, and sleeping. Then we are going to drive to the Chaos mountains and call my brother. Repeat that back to me Nero."

"W-…We…Gunna tell the kids that…" he swallowed, and felt sweat slide over his temple. Dante's eyes were relentless, they had him pinned under such an intense gaze, it made him want to hurl again.

"Gunna tell Trish and the kids…We're goin' to the...Desert…to hunt kid eatin' Scorpions…And we're taking..R-R-R-"

"Rachel." Dante said the name coldly, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Say the name, Nero."

"We're…T-takin' …_Rachel-"_ he was going to vomit in his face if he made him say it again. "Pretending she's a … alive… we're going to the Chaos mountains to meet your brother."

"That's right. And then, after that, we're going to go talk to my uncle. Do you understand?"

Nero's bottom lip trembled. His eyes watered. His hand, his human hand, clutched the front of Dante's shirt.

"I didn't mean it!" he said, and his voice might as well been glass, it broke all over the place. "I…Can't believe it! I'm a murderer!"

Dante pushed his arm aside and gave him a tight, long lasting hug, letting the kid sob on his chest, patting his shoulder. The kid, wider than him but not taller, was shivering.

Dante knew regret when he saw it: the kid thought that Rachel was invincible, and so did she…Another trait of Vergil's she could've done without.

And hadn't he done the exact same thing, once upon a dream, in a little town of Maine?

He'd strangled a girl to death too, because she…she did something or rather… And he brought the body back home, like an idiot. He would've been, what, fifteen? If his father had've seen the body, Dante would've been killed. And if his mother had seen the body, he would've committed suicide, from the guilt she would've inflicted on him.

That's just how it would've played out.

But when he bawled open the door with tears streaming down his face and a body in his arms, it was neither (far too busy) parent that answered. Thank God - or Hell or whatever you want – for Vergil, who swept up the dead girl and kicked him into their room.

This is how Vergil had handled it. And if he hadn't have, Dante would've gone to bits and blurted out his crime.

_"No matter how sorry you are Dante, the girl is dead."_

_Vergil had said, so coolly. _

_"Bu'…I swear, Verge, I didn't mean t-t-to…!"_

_"I know you didn't Dante. It's a part of us that needs a lot of control. And she has been pushing too many of your buttons as of late, hasn't she?"_

_"I…Can't believe…"_

_"I know you can't. I can't either. But Dante, we can't just have a carcass in our room, you know. Sooner or later, father will look and find her. Either that, or she will stink to the high heavens."_

_Dante shivered, his mind somewhere else. Vergil punched him hard across the jaw, then allowed him a moment to heave into a trashcan._

_When he was done with that, panting for air, Vergil had pinned him by the shoulders against the wall – a common hold Dante still struggled with breaking. _

_"Now you listen, and you listen good, Dante." Vergil had growled out dangerously. "This is what we are going to do."_

_"We?"_

_"Yes, we."_

_"Why, Verge? I-…If we get caught…"_

_"We won't get caught."_

_"How do you know?"_

_Vergil gave him a rare, affectionate smile. _

_"Because this is me and you, we're talking about. And I am your brother. I have obligations."_

_He then proceeded to tell Dante that when he had been caught sneaking out to romance his new girlfriend, he was actually sneaking out to train with their uncle._

_"W-…We have an uncle?"_

_"Yes, Dante. But that's beside the point. We are going to go and meet at Chaos mountain and find him. We are going to tell our parents that we are going on an extended hiking trip, for brotherly bonding, and that we will swear a blood oath to come back in one piece. We will insist to go alone, and if interrupted, will never talk to one another again. Repeat it back, Dante."_

_Dante did as he was told._

_Then asked why._

_"Because our uncle lives atop Chaos mountain. He will help us dispose of…What's her name?"_

_Dante - like Nero-, stuttered over the first letter until he was hit hard, in the side of the head._

_"Say the name, brother. It is the first step to understanding, and accepting, your mistake."_

_"T-T-Tracy…" he sobbed out, then went to hug the dead body. But instead, for the first time in their lives, Vergil gave him a hug._

_A permitted hug._

_Dante clutched at the threads of his brother's shirt and wondered briefly why he wore such scratchy fabric._

_Then Vergil patted his head, and told him that it would work out just fine, that she really wouldn't have felt much at all, that he'd take care of it, they were in it together, that if he wiped his nose on his jumper again, he was going to be burying him with the girl…_

"Alright, kid. Now from here on in, I need you to be your normal self. You have to pack every bottle of holy water you can find, and as little weaponry as you can deal with. I'll handle the trio, and put Rachel's body into her bed, all cosy. You're going to stand guard over it, Nero."

"What?!" Nero tried to push Dante away, but he wouldn't lessen his grip: he thumped Nero's collar bone hard, making him settle.

"If Trish or the kids' find her," Dante said calmly. "I'm not going to cover for you. I'm going to pretend it's news to me, and kick you outta my house so fast your head will spin. Do you understand?"

"I…" Nero kinda sunk, half against the wall, half against him. "I...Yeah. I understand."

"Good." Dante gave him a tight lipped smile. "Now get going."


	14. Cooee

**TehOdd1 xoox**

"COOOOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

My holler bounced off the cloud, came back at me and blasted me into the air, sending me flying backwards, into the air. Then I ricocheted off the pillar, that looked like cold hard opal and felt like a warm satin pillow, and flew through the air, where Craig darted up to catch me in his gob.

I was giggling maniacally, clapping my hands, saying: "Again! Again!"

I'd never had so much fun being held against my will.

You see, I didn't know it, but time passed funnily in limbo. Everything went really, really, slow.

I'd been dead for half an hour in Earth time, but in limbo time, I'd been 'alive' for three weeks. Like, no shit, three weeks.

I had no needs, either…I didn't have to eat, or to sleep, but I enjoyed both. The food was amazing up here: everything was fresh and vibrant, never went bad or differed in taste, always cooked to perfection. And sleep just meant I got to dream my wonderful dreams.

Now usually, I didn't dream. I was too far in REM sleep to remember any of them.

And if I did, they were nightmares.

And I hadn't had one of those since I was about ten.

Here, the dreams, they were like… everything I had ever wanted.

In each dream was a vibrant fantasy that felt so real.

For example: two nights before Craig told me how to play with the clouds, I dreamt that Nero and I only fought as sparring partners, and not as enemies. My Master approved of my self designed moves and I won against Dante with a little struggle, a few carefully thought out come backs, and a shit load of style. Trish didn't hate me. Max and Dom were making homemade pizza with asparagus and cheese.

It was perfection.

I spent the entire first week moody, broody, and trying to escape. But no matter what I did, which path I walked – because their were a lot of paths to walk, passing museums, concerts, libraries and stuff that I couldn't access – I always wound up back to my domain.

My domain looked like this: grey white clouds. Peal coloured pillars supporting a see through silken cloth, that served as a roof. A giant bed with no human compatible size, and an endless pool of bubbles.

But that was it.

I wasn't allowed to train, otherwise Craig would either squash me or eat me, (I'd been dumb enough to think that by changing 'Bite me' to 'Eat me', they wouldn't take it literally. Unfortunately I was dealing with a giant fish, that did in fact eat me.) Darius would rip out varying organs, or Lana would leap and trample me into promising not to do any more.

And when I started eating everyday, and stopped training, a curious thing happened.

I had told Lana to rid me of the boobs and give my much loved muscles back.

She didn't. So I was stuck with the very curvy, feminine body.

I cursed, I assure you.

At first, it felt light. Like I was wearing a suit that I could feel, and that's the only way I can explain it. Like it wasn't me, but I could feel through it like it was.

Then when I ate and slept 'properly'… It started to fill out. It felt real. Like me, the actual me.

I didn't want to admit it, but I think it was obvious when Lana sighed dramatically and brought me down to : 'my normal size...'

I was getting fat.

I wasn't actually fat, but I had boobs now, a small layer of fat over my 'pecs'. I no longer had rapidly defined abs. And only a six pack. My now puny biceps looked flabby, and I had wobbly thighs. And a balloon butt.

I hated every inch of it.

I was still laughing crazily when Craig dropped me in the middle of my bed, and then chuckled in that slow, deep way of his, swimming in the air over my bed.

Darius shook his head.

Lol. I made a rhyme again!

Lana, like me, was laughing, but only in that really feminine way of hers that I really didn't like. She was so gentle and, like, woman-ish… Let's just say I would rather fifty murderous Dariuses then just the one Lana.

"Ray…Chel..." Craig said, and I sat up immediately with a big grin for him. "Gen?"

"Yes! Again, again!"

"Craig." Darius said sharply, and Craig turned with lazy, half lidded eyes.

"Dar?"

"Enough. The girl should be studying a way to get home."

I snorted. "Yeah, because that's been real useful these last few weeks."

"Then try harder." Darius snapped, and I imagined that if he had teeth, they'd be grinding. "I suggest you seek out Lana's Kyrie."

"Oh?" I said lowly, scrambling to the edge of the bed and standing up, absolutely towering over the bird who so calmly looked up at me from the floor.

"Is that all you've got to suggest? Because I do so adore every word you speak."

He narrowed those golden eyes of his. Lana's feet made nervous clip clopping sounds.

"Yes. That is all I have to suggest." He said lowly. "Now why don't you take Lana and run along?"

"Because." I said bitterly, turning my nose up at him. "I don't like the way you're talking to me."

* * *

I ended up going anyway.

It occurred to me, as I was walking, that something in me had changed. Maybe it came with the boobs and the lack of an eight pack, I don't know.

Darius and my Master were one in the same. They shared various traits, and personalities almost down to a T. But I have never disobeyed my Master Vergil.

Directly, anyway.

There was something so different in me that made me want to say no. I don't know what it was that had snapped…But it had, and it had with a furious vengeance.

Lana was the only one to come with me down an endless, vine ridden path. I had stormed out, and Craig had to make sure Darius didn't kill me after I had called him a : 'Bug eyed pigeon.' But that was only because said 'bug eyed pigeon' essentially called me a fat whore.

"You shouldn't have said that." Lana tried to tell me off as we walked – well, I stomped and she half galloped to keep up – "he really is quite sensitive-"

"Sensitive! Pah! He wouldn't know sensitive if it slapped him right in the kisser! I know his type, Lana, and you couldn't be further from the truth!"

"B-…But… Really, calm down Rachel." She all but squeaked, her pace slowing.

"I will not calm down!" I yelled, turning to grit my teeth at her.

She had tears in her eyes. I narrowed my own.

"Why are you crying?" I demanded.

"I'm not." She sniffed.

"Yes, you are. I've studied crying – recently done so – and I know it is a natural human emotion signalling weakness."

"Sadness." She corrected, bowing her head. "Or fear."

"Well, stop being sad." I snapped, beginning to walk back.

"I-...I'm not sad-"

"Then whatever it is, stop it!" I snapped, turning sharply. Then, I froze.

A beautiful woman had glided to the ground, with the kind of effortless grace only a leaf can accomplish. She was all in white, billowing robes, with very little makeup and lengths of long blone hair.

She looked a lot like Trish.

"Hello." she said, in a very plesent voice.

I nodded at her.

"Lana. I haven't seen you in-"

"Oh, Eva, it's been months!" Lana squealed, all traces of 'tears' gone, prancing around the woman excitedly. "How is my lady Kyrie? How have you been? Have you guys been bored? Has anything happened? What about Luna, how is she-?!"

The woman laughed, placing her hands on the doe's shoulder blades to cease her prancing.

"All is well, and as it should be, my farling doe." she smiled, then turned her eyes onto me. She gave me a breif, descreet once over, then nodded to herself.

"Yes. All is as it should be. My name is Eva. How are you finding Limbo, child?"

"Miss Eva, I hate limbo." I told her boldly. "I cannot train. I cannot fight. I cannot eat, wear and do as I whish. It is oppressing."

She laughed a tinkering laugh and walked towards me.

I took a few steps back, not wanting to be touched by this woman in the purest form. I was both afraid that if she touched me, I'd be in trouble, and if she toched me, I'd react to my training and attack. All defences were turned to 'go'.

She faltered, then gently placed the tip of her finger to my shoulder. Immideantly, I felt at ease, but tried to fight the feeling, knowing it were her whishes and not my own.

"Interesting." she said softly, before giving me a wide smile and lifting the offending limb. "Let us walk, shall we? I am to meet someone here, and I might be lonely."

I didn't give her a yes, but I didn't give her a no. I followed where she walked, and listened as she told me stories about her husband, and two sons, Red and Blue.

I didn't think to tell her my name. She called me 'child', and that reminded me of my Master. I missed him terribly: the kind of missing that a substitue eagle will only agrivate.

*

*

* * *

*

*

A little while before, on Earth.

"Almost there, Kid!" came Dante's strained, yet happy voice. "Almost there!"

"We were 'almost there' three hours ago!" Nero exploded, throwing up his hands. "And that tree is either following me, or we are going in circles! YOU ARE LOST!" he bellowed, even going as far as stamping his foot.

Dante just chuckled werily, and turned the map around in his hands with some difficulty.

"Oh." he said, like obviousness had just struck him.

"That 'oh' better not be the 'oh' I think that 'oh' is." what started out as a very frustrated and serious statement was lost in translation as Dante turned around with a silly grin on his face.

"Upsidedown!" he announced. Then, to make it that much worse, muttered: "Actually it was right side facing down, but hey, I'm not one for specifics."

Nero groaned. Loudly. And started to swear. Profusely.

"Ah, c'mon kid, let's make the best out of a crappy situation, huh? Look at this veiw? Innit perty?" he said a little too happily, considering he was not only shouldering the magority of the world's holy water up the mountain, but the dead body of his brother's progidy too.

Nero groaned and slumped against a tree, his head in his hands.

"You've never been camping, have you, Dante?" Nero asked weakly.

Dante gave him a even bigger grin.

"What can I say? I'm a natural."

_Yeah, really natural._ Nero thought bitterly as he hauled himself after the guy with varying types of plants sticking to the back of his leather chaps.

He also had a turantula the size of his entire hand on his head, but hey, it wasn't doing any harm. (it hadn't for the last hour.)

"Almost there, Kid!" Dante hollered back again.

Nero's eye twitched.

"Why?" he asked the sky weakly. "Why is the son of Sparda such a fat headed, idiot?"

And so they trudged.

The hill they were trudging up not so slowly became a mountain. Nero felt a blister on his blister rupture. Dante let rip bodily gasses more than once - without any warning, no less.

"Good GOD, Dante!" Nero yelled, throwing a rock at his head, knocking the spider away.

"What? It's a little bit of manliness. 'CUz let's face it kid, you ain't the most masculine fello."

"So what, your toughening up my nostrils?"

Dante just laughed, and held back a branch for him. Nero stared at it like he expected it to come alive and repetitively hit Dante square in the balls until he screamed like a little girl.

"Okay, I'll admit, I was thinking about it..." Dante chuckled. He bumped Rachel up his back a little further and brushed her hair away from his face.

"I promise I won't let go of this branch until you pass, m'kay?"

"Promise on Dom's life."

"I promise on Dom AND Max's lives."

Nero sighed and started to walk when- THWAP!

He hit something on the way down that grunted, and they tumbled, bounced and rolled down the leaf strewn - not to mention poision ivy littered - mountain they'd just climbed.

"NOW BOTH THE KIDS ARE GUNNA DROP DEAD!" Nero shouted, hold his bleeding nose. (the branch did hit him quite hard.)

"THERE, YOU HAPPY? RACHEL'S DEAD, NOW DOM AND MAX ARE GUNNA DIE-!"

"Nero!" Dante bellowed, launched in the air, sword drawn. Nero ducked and rolled, drawing his own weapon, preparing to fight--

"Uncle Angelo?" Dante sweat dropped a little, then sheathed his sword hautily. "Damn, man, you got old!"

"Way to go Dante." chuckled the man, who's shoulder width made Nero look like a twig, even after buffing up.

The two shared a rough embrace with ample back patting and hair scruffing, and Nero took his time to look over the man in question.

It could've been santa claus. Only a much toucher, rougher version. In reality, all the guy had in common with the jolly christmas icon was the white (ish) beard, and twinkling blue eyes.

He had biceps the size of watermelons. Forearms the width of mangos. His stomach was bulging with muscel, and he was caked, head to toe, in dirt. He was also wearing only a pair of black leather pants, boots, and a biker's vest with the embroided symbol for the Devil on it.

"So, what's up kid? Like the new defence?" the guy grinned, revelling level, sharpened fangs.

"Defence?" Dante blinked stupidly. "Sneaking up behind the kid and scarin' me outta my chaps?"

The man laughed, a great big belly laugh.

"No, Dante. Kid was right," and he shot Nero a friendly, all teeth grin. "That tree was followin' him. It was me."

Nero blanked.

The two white haired men laughed. loudly.

"Yeah, very funny." Nero mumbled, getting to his feet and wiping the blood off his upper lip. "Dante, can we ju-"

But the wind was knocked clean out of his chest. It wasn't anything physical that made him suddenly want to collapse.

It was the absolutely livid look on Vergil's face.

"Vergil-" Dante said, stepping in between his brother, his uncle, and his best friend. "-Just let me explain."

Vergil looked like he was having difficulty unclenching his teeth long enough to talk properly. So instead of using words, as he would've liked to do, he managed a single syllable.

"Where?"

"Vergil? S'at you? Bloody hell, you got real fine in the end, eh?" Uncle ANgelo said, scratching the hairs on his cheek. "I thought you'd be fair the same, but then again, me 'n' Spar were'nt that close lookin' either."

"Where." Vergil ground out again, his eyes flicking everywhere. First on Dante, then on his UNcle, then on Nero, who shrunk back under the intensity of his gaze-

"That was the wrong move to make." Vergil said softly, then drew Yamato.

"Vergil! Vergil, wait, it wasn't the kid, it was me!" Dante said, stepping forward to halt his brother before he moved.

"Back up kid." Angelo said out the corner of his mouth to Nero. "Back up good an' far, there's a boy."

"Don't!" Vergil snarled, placing the tip of his weapon under his brother's chin. "Don't you dare defend him, I know he's guilty, but of what?"

Dante blanched. He had thought Vergil knew.

"Vergil." Dante said slowly. "Listen to me. Before anything else happens, I know a way to fix this. Just calm down."

"Fix what?" he snarled, the sword cutting flesh. "Where is she? What on Earth-" The words Vergil so cherished just died in his throat.

He made a slightly winded noise, and Dante could've sworn he could see straight through his skin, it turned so pale.

Vergil had seen the body, which Nero had scrambled next to, anticipating a fight.

"I'm sorry!" he said, just to fill the dead silence that followed. "I'm sorry, Vergil, I...It, it was an accident..."

Angelo shook his head frantically, his saggy beard shaking.

Dante looked a little green as he watched his brother walk calmly over to the body.

"Vergil?" Dante asked quietly.

"You stupid, insignificant, fragile human." Vergil said lowly, dropping Yamato and sinking to his knees.

His shoulders came forward, and both hands swept his hair from his eyes. His nails dug into his skull, and from what all three men could see, turned his pristein hair pink.

His hands fell away, to his sides, and swallowed a horrible mouthful. He touched the girl's hair before scooping her up, cradling her head to his chest.

"I told you to keep your mouth shut, you foolish girl." He muttered, pulling twigs from her hair.

He stroked her hair from her face, along with a single crystaline tear no one had seen him shed.

"Now look at this. Is this the way I told you to dress? What is this provocotive nonscence?" he asked her, frowning at the modest singlet shirt she had been changed into, along with a pair of shorts.

This was when he brushed her long, dark hair away from her throat.

"Oh." he wispered, touching her more than mangaled neck.

The bones in her vertabrae were crushed, almost as fine as sand. Her arteries had swollen with the build up of blood pror to her death, then exploded, leaving blue and purple spider webs underneath her skin. The adrenaline she must have exerted whilst fighting had just been sat on the muscels of her neck, and stiffened horrbly, making everything more defined, even to his sharpened eyes.

He completely ignored Nero, who shoved his demon hand out of sight as soon as her throat was bared.

"How do you plan to fix this Dante?" he asked, still looking at the girl in his arms.

"Talk to mum." Dante said at once, striding over to his brother. He knelt down and looked at Vergil's face: but his older brother would'nt loko at him back.

"She's in limbo, Verge. Uncle Ange can set up communications with dad, who can get mum, to find and ask Rachel-"

Vergil twitched at the name.

"- where she is. Then one of us goes in, guns blazin', pulls her out, and all's good again, right?"

"There will be no guns blazing." Vergil told his brother matter-of-factly. "I will be the one who goes in, and there will be nothing good about this except for my lesson learnt."

Dante cocked an eyebrow, and mirrored his brother's stand and stance.

"Lesson, Verge?"

Vergil's eyes hit Dante so hard he almost fell over.

"If you want something looked after, do it yourself." he said coldly. "Now, Uncle. How long until you can establish contact with father?"

"Already onnit." their Uncle said - his eyes were whiter than his beard.

Which, in reality, wasn't all that white.


	15. Dropkick

**Sorry for spelling, again, Microsoft is at war with me, I tell you. **

**I just realised that Angelo is actually based on the more hard core version of Santa... And here was me thinking that Christmas had no effect on me.**

**Speaking of which, MERRY CHRISTMAS! Go read lots of holiday based fanfics and share the lurrrve!**

***gives gifts!***

**TehOdd1 xoox**

"Vergil was standing ridgidly, with his hands clasped behind his back. He had said: "I'll take first watch. Lucifer knows that with this much power in one place..." mumbled the rest of his scentence, and taken to his stance.

He was facing the open mouth of the cave, that over looked a small platform of rock, then tumbling masses of vines that hid a giant clifface and waterfall. He had been standing there for the last seven hours.

Dante had snoozed on the small and wooden couch, snored, fell off, and accused Nero of pulling him off just for kicks.

Nero had taken to Angelo's small hand crafted dining table and stared at the wood until Angelo had offered him his bed. Nero protested he couldn't sleep for the nightmares and challenged him half heartedly to an arm wrestling match. When he epic failed seventeen times in a row, he swapped arms. He was promptly beaten anyway. It was then he took up the offer and hadn't been seen scince.

And Angelo was being a very gracious host - with a cigar stinking up the entire cave, laughing loudly with Dante, making crude and weird jokes about Dante's family, especially his mother.

Dante was a bit too drunk to care.

Vergil was being a little too emo kid to defend her.

Nero was too dead to the world (figuratively, of course,) to notice.

And Rachel? Well, she _was_ dead to _this _world, what can you do?

For one second, a single second exactly, when Angelo was recouping after a round of jokes he had made, and Dante was inhaling his cigar, Vergil found the time in that second to dive into his knowledge.

The little black book that was full to the brim of laws and legends suddenly flicked open in point one of the second, and the peices of the puzzle no one had thought to see had fallen so heavily into place.

Vergil triggered.

Angelo jumped up, wrapping his arms around Vergil's biceps. Vergil thrashed, screaming, - absolutely _screaming_ - bloody murder at his conclusions.

Dante stumbled to his feet.

"Shit, bro, what the hell's wrong with-?"

"_That brat_!" he hissed, the veins and tendons sticking out of his throat. "_He's the only one that can save Rachel!"_

"Easy, son, calm down-"

"_I AM NOT YOUR SON_!" Vergil bellowed, throwing the giant man off his back.

Dante - some how - knew better. He stood there as Vergil made claws out of his hands and wrung someone's imaginary neck.

The irony.

"Vergil, man, was that really nessesary? It's a figure of speech, bro." Dante said lightly, walking over to his uncle and offering him a hand.

Vergil found the will power to de-trigger. Although he didn't stop growling, that only increased with Nero's attempt at hiding again. Dante knew from experiance that growling that loud hurt far too much to do it for long.

Seven minutes later after verious tries and ways of trying to calm Vergil down, and he was still growling at the same decibel.

Dante mentally shrugged and planned to experiment later.

"Vergil." Dante said coolly. "You aren't going to be any where near as productive if you are that angry, bro. Calm down."

Between gritting his teeth so hard they broke and curling and un curling his fists, Vergil managed to do as his brother asked, and smooth out his coat and hair.

Nero had never seen one person so _angry. _He swallowed from his place at the door way.

Vergil's eyes snapped to him, and he sized him up, and gave him his most withering sneer.

"You are to go into Limbo and pull Rachel out." he informed him coldly, his upper lip pulling up, baring sharped canines.

"Me?" Nero cocked both eyebrows.

"Yes, you." Vergil snapped. "Who else would I be adressing?"

"I-I dunno." Nero fumbled with words. "Dante, maybe?"

Vergil just let a breath slide between his teeth, and started to mutter under his breath.

"But...Hey... Why me? You know I'm the one that...Well...You know-"

Vergil had him pinned in seconds. Even though Nero was taller and wider than Vergil and Dante both, he crumpled and sagged under that stare. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was the fact that this guy was just _something else._ In an entirely different legue of his own.

Maybe.

There was a painfully sharp rock that might've acted as a coat rack stabbing into Nero's spine. No one so much as moved when it breeched his skin and drew blood.

"No, I don't know." Vergil said his voice purring morbid words. "Tell me, Nero, what did you do?"

Nero looked at Dante. Dante shook his head. Angelo did the same.

"Tell me."

"I..."

"I'm waiting, boy." Vergil sneered, transferring his grip from his collar to the back of his head.

"L-L..Listen, Vergil-"

"Hm? What is it? Speak up." he drawled, pushing the boy in front of him, kicking him in the lower back so that Nero toppled out of the entrance and landed spread eagled on his stomach with a 'umph'.

"Listen, you can't treat me like-" Nero started with a half hearted sneer.

Vergil had kicked him hard in the mouth, sending him flying over onto his backside.

"I can treat you however I should choose." Vergil said coolly. "Now. Tell me. What did you do to Rachel?"

"You fuckin' know!" Nero growled out, scrambling to his feet. "You're the smart one, you tell me."

"You shattered her spinal cord." Vergil began simply, sliding his coat off.

Dante made a move to stop him but was halted by Angelo's arm on his chest.

"Uncle Ange, he _will _kill him." Dante said, pushing his uncle's hand away impatiently.

"No he won't, Dante." The usually 'jolly' man said, his eyes on the situation at hand. "He needs him to get the girl outta limbo. He can't kill him until after."

"All the same, Kid's gunna get his ass handed to him." Dante said, going to step forward and being yanked back.

"What you don't realise is if he doesn't do it now, he'll do it later, and he _will kill that boy_." Angelo said sternly. "He's got more of a chance if you let Vergil calm himself."

Dante winced. As much as he didn't want to admit it, his uncle was right. And when a member of THIS family was right, god damnit, they were right.

"Better get some towels then." Dante said, as Vergil finished taking off his jacket and folding it. "He's going to lose allota blood."

Nero got up and charged while Vergil's back was still turned. Vergil dusted off a rock before placing his coat on it.

Then he turned and caught Nero's fist, and twisted it so that Nero was flipped, and sent smashing his nose down into the ground.

The crunch that followed made an echo throughout the entire valley.

Nero howled at the pain that shot through his head, and Vergil picked him up by the same hand he had used to render him into almost unconciousness.

"And after you'd done that, you crushed the bones into sand." He flipped the boy again so that he landed flat on his back.

He put his foot on the boy's thorax and stepped down lightly. Just enough for Nero to lose his breath.

"The adrenaline build up left her muscels clenched." he said airly, before putting his toes under Nero's neck and kicking him up.

Nero attempted to thump him one with his demon hand, but it left his ribs wide open, and Vergil sucker punched him up and_ under _his rib cage.

Nero fell to his knees, vomiting up the bacon and eggs Trish had MADE him eat that morning. Vergil, the world's most considerate patron, patted the boy's shoulder gently until he was left gasping for air.

Then he simply picked him up by the scruff and drop kicked him into the wall next to the opening where Uncle Angelo and Dante stood, mortified as the wall broke beneath him.

"And her arteries exploded, because your claw wouldn't let the blood pass." Vergil said, his voice too strained to be calm or collected.

Nero slid down the rock, helpless and bruised face turning to Dante.

Dante didn't say a word. The matching helpless look on his face, the uncle's splayed hand over his chest told him everything.

He was on his own.

"So I do know, exactly what pain you inflicted upon my progidy, _Nero_." he said the name like it tasted like dirt. "I know. I have killed things using this technique exactly. Do you want to know what it would've felt like, to her?"

"No!" Nero barked, using the rock to push himself onto his unsteady feet.

"Her head would've felt like it was spinning-"

"I don't wanna hear it!" Nero bellowed, charging at the immobile man.

"-she would've struggled a little, but that would've caused far too much pain-"

"SHUT UP!" Nero threw his devil bringer at him. Vergil blocked, and countered, with his knee into Nero's stomach. That was followed by several kicks, then a roundhouse to the nose.

Nero dropped like a sack of bricks.

"-So then she would've felt lightheaded."

He continued loudly, over Nero's consistant swearing.

"And then, she would've felt me, because I felt her."

"I'm sure you did, you sick mutha fucka." Nero spat his blood all over Vergil's boots. Then he looked up into the cold hard eyes of the man who raised his percieved enemy. "I know all about that. I bet you really couldn't help but make her look like a man either, with the way you swing and all."

And to everyone's surprise, Vergil threw back his head, and roared with laughter.

Which was the scariest thing that he could've done. Or that anyone has ever seen in the history of the world, before or after.

"You filthy mutt." he chuckled, wiping 'tears' from under his eyes. "You think you can offend me with petty insults about which gender I do and do not feel attracted to? You, above all else, are an idiot."

Nero was kicked under the ribs, high into the air, before taking another roundhouse to the very centre of his chest and slamming into the wall above the opening where Dante and Angelo we currently watching with rapt fascination.

Dante caught Nero as he more plummeted then fell, and stood him up.

He opened his mouth to speak but Angelo had pushed the kid into Vergil's chest - and with the momentum of the push, Vergil used his lighter than air footing to negotiate around the boy and kick him in the back of the head.

Nero crashed to the floor.

Vergil straightened his shirt. He smoothed his hair away from his eyes, ignoring everyone completely. He calmly strolled over to his coat, unfolded it, and slipped one arm through the appropriote hole.

"She--" Nero coughed blood out onto the floor. "--Didn't fight."

Vergil slowed his movements, chin raising slightly. Had he not been clear as to how absolutely infuriated he was with the boy? And it was Dante's fault he had stopped. It was always Dante's fault if he stopped his malicious intentions.

Otherwise there would be very few humans left in the world.

"She was weak." he wheezed, propping himself on his human arm. "She cried--" he sucked in a harsh breath as something in his ribs clenched.

"--Like a baby. And then she tried to_ fuck _me, like a _whore_." he spat out the swear, then the last word.

Vergil jammed his other arm in his coat, maintaining the holier than thou complexion no one else seemed to equal to.

"She blamed you!" Nero hollered, getting to his feet and swaying. "She blamed you for being too weak to teach her how to get out of stupid little strangle holds. She said that you were too emotional to ever consider it!"

Vergil's teeth, whilst elongating, snapped shut inside his mouth, and he swallowed the blood that followed. He couldn't attack him again. A single kick and not only would one of his ribs crack all the way through, but it would pierce his lung, and Vergil knew him to be too human to heal it before he drowned in his own blood.

No matter how delectable and just it might be, he needed the boy.

"She fucked eighteen different people while you were gone." Nero sneered. "Eighteen! And I even caught her moaning your name once or twice!"

Dante was gaping at the kid as if he were some kind of one boobed alien. He didn't know what in the Hell the kid was talking about, but he was more concerned as to why the hell he was talking about it.

Angelo had nodded once, understandingly, then resigned to looking admirably at the floor, like the dirt at his shoes was the most wonderful thing he'd ever seen.

Vergil's fingers tried to work the buttons at his chest, but he found that they were shaking too hard to negotiate with the small loop and button. Either that, or the matierial he wore had taken to vibrating.

Now there's an interesting thought.

"You know what else?" Nero continued to taunt, wheezing hard as he moved the slightest of inches, just enough to raise his devil bringer to the opposing shoulder.

"She told me you were pathetic, a useless excuse for a being. She said that Dante was the best thing that had ever happened to her."

Vergil made a small dis-believing noise.

"It's true," Nero hurried. "She said that the wit, and care of him was more than you'd ever shown--"

Vergil was walking away. Realising that his plan was backfiring as he calmed down the eldest son of Sparda, he reverted back to teasing Rachel.

"Her fighting was slow, and sloppy. Her technique was out the window and she gave up."

He just kept walking. He mounted one step before Nero threw down the ultimate card.

"It wasn't even hard, when I killed her. You talk about what it was like for her... But I loved every single second of watching the light dim in her scared, green, eyes. And then she whispered your name... I almost felt bad. Then I tightened my grip, she sounded like a dieing animal. I_ loved _the way she just...Broke."

Vergil no longer cared about his coat. He no longer cared about the way the boy's physical condition, to better alow him into Limbo. He was no longer cared that in the background, above the taunting of the boy and the rush of the waterfall, Dante was saying:

_"It's not true, Verge. It didn't happen like that. He's lying, Vergil, walk away."_

All he cared about was that the boy - _the thing _- had killed his Rachel. And he enjoyed it.

Vergil was almost like lightening, the way he turned around and had launched himself in the air, hands like claws, ready to bestow upon the boy the same one as he had fated Rachel.

Nero, with his human hand, threw his demon one out to the side, and with a grunt, took a stance that wouldn't let him move.

Vergil was coathangered, then kicked in the side.

And no body, not even Nero, seen it comming. Or expected it to work.

Blinded by an all consuming rage, Vergil got to his feet, only to have Dante stepping between the two, glaring hotly at Nero, who just sneered over his arm.

"Vergil, that's enough. Kid, get inside, right now!"

"Or what, Old man, you gunna go me too? Get out of the way and let's finish this."

"I will not. Verge, you need the kid in one peice to get him into Limbo-"

"He dosen't need his tongue, though, does he?"

"I'm told my tongue is a very valuble asset." Nero sneered. "Why don't you ask your precious-?!"

No one so much as saw Vergil move, when suddenly he was just there, standing coolly behind Nero. Said boy turned clumsily to make a sad attempt at defending himself, but Vergil blocked the pathetic excuse for an attack and twisted his wrist so hard it snapped right off the bone.

Vergil was unflinching as Nero's scream of agony punctured the otherwise silent atmosphere.

"After I reserect her myself, perhaps I will."

And, with that lingering in the air, he picked Nero up, letting him hang in the air for a small moment, before he spun around with his coat whirling, and roundhoused the boy straight over the waterfall.

Vergil was correct in saying a single kick more would snap the boy's ribs. In fact, that one kick by itself broke five.

"NO! NERO!" Dante yelled, pushing past his brother to run and dive in a graceful arc after the kid.

He was in the feeble position, falling down, blood over the better part of his face and his snapped arm clutched tightly to his broken chest, when Dante grabbed him around the ribs, which cracked into - and then sagged around - his arm.

Dante reached out with his free hand, and grabbed a branch that snapped like a brittle bone. Cursing, and still falling, he tried again.

No such luck.

Meters above the jaggered rocks that stuck out from the bottom of the water fall, Dante drew Rebellion and drove her into the rock. Bits and peices of Earth rained down on them as they came to a steady halt. Nero was given a quick once over at arm's length, then hauled over his shoulder fire man style.

"Just leave," Nero wheezed, pushing meekly at the shoulder holding him in place. "Leave me. I want to die. I'm a murderer."

"Ah, shut up." Dante panted. "I did not just jump after a murderer, m'kay? Give the guilt a rest. Speaking of rests-" he grunted as he pulled the both of them up to another handhold. "-you should get some shut eye. This is going to take a while."


	16. Amish Nutjob

Okay, so I'm doing two chapters of posting now, then the usual posting on Tuesdays. Hope everyone had an awesome Christmas, and New Year, because that's what stopped me before – lack of internet.

TehOdd1 xoox

* * *

**Recap:**

"Just leave," Nero wheezed, pushing meekly at the shoulder holding him in place. "Leave me. I want to die. I'm a murderer."

"Ah, shut up." Dante panted. "I did not just jump after a murderer, m'kay? Give the guilt a rest. Speaking of rests-" he grunted as he pulled the both of them up to another handhold. "-you should get some shut eye. This is going to take a while."

**Some where higher than Earth, lower than Heaven.**

"...And by the time I came home, Red, Blue, and my "fearless" husband had all camped outside because the washing machine had, and I quote: 'gone berserk and tried to kill them'. Sparda insisted it was possessed, so I had to sell it to the elderly lady next to our farm. She thought Sparda was some kind of Amish nut job, because he kept muttering about 'demonic appliances'." Eva chuckled a little, and sat on a rock under a glorious green maple.

I chuckled a little and sat on the floor, cross legged.

Then she sighed, and the sigh was sad, and edict _told _me to ask why. I did as I was told.

"When I tell the stories I think about them." she explained. "I miss them so much. It's... painful remembering, but at the same time..." her face glowed, and she looked truly angelic. The way her golden hair framed her featureless dress, that somehow looked so beautiful on her, the way she smiled so softly. It was everything about her.

"I don't know." she said with another small chuckle. "I just...I suppose it's a case of loving remembering them, but the feeling of separation, you know?"

"Indeed." I said automatically, then ducked my head. "I do know... My... My Master... He was my everything. My teacher, my brother, my father, my love... It...It wasn't sexual, or anything, what we have... had... but I've studied love. I've read Romeo and Juliet. And then he..." I stopped fiddling with my sandals long enough to look up at her concerned face.

I gave her a quick smile.

"He just refused to see me anymore. He said I was a weakness."

"The only thing you could've been to him, would've been strength." she told me sternly. "I tried to teach my children, and my husband, the same thing. You don't have weaknesses in people, you have strength. If anything bad happened to you, would he or would he not be there? For your protection, for support, encouragement?" she shot the questions off so rapidly I just blinked at her.

She sighed, her eyes falling away from my face.

"I mean-"

"He would protect me." I whispered, and her head snapped up, her eyes searching mine. "He would, he would. Master Vergil was always there...Like a safety net. Except...He..." my voice choked over the reality, the truths of it all. The injustice of my death hadn't really sunk in yet. I preferred not to think about it.

"He didn't protect you. Did he?" she asked, and her voice was broken.

Her voice was broken for me.

I didn't understand.

"Please, don't cry... I... He loves, m-me. I know he does."

"I'm sure he does." she said, sinking to her knees before me. She wrapped her arms around me, and I stiffened, my arms stuck to my sides. "I'm sure, darling. But you're hurt, because he wasn't there to protect you."

"I-He- No, it's not like that-!" I tried to tell myself- her. I tried to tell her.

"Yes it is. He left you, and when he did, you were strangled to death, and died. Oh, why didn't I see it before?" she said, stroking my hair down my spine.

"See what-?"

"Rachel." she said in a breathy voice. "Vergil is my _son_."

"Oh, gee." Lana said in an awed voice. "What a coin-ki-dink."

* * *

A little while before that, on a place called Earth...

As soon as Dante's head was in view, Nero was picked up.

"Verge, god damnit, you've done enough!" Dante barked, pulling himself easily over the edge with out Nero's body to concern himself with.

Vergil had dropped the boy to his knees. Nero just stared at him, waiting for the blows to come. He was ready to take it. Anything thing Vergil threw at him, he didn't care. He deserved it.

He waited, with his head bowed.

"My prodigy would've felt fear." Vergil said quietly, and that threw Nero way off course. He looked up to question him but he was interrupted. "She would've known, somewhere, that it was the end. She didn't stop fighting you, did she?"

Nero opened his mouth, but closed it again. He hung his head.

"Just let me go get her, and then kill me. I don't care what you do. I have nothing to live for anyway. I was looking for an excuse to die. This is it. I'll come back with Rachel, I will, I promise, but you gotta kill me."

Vergil blinked. Slowly. Processing the request, as he had done with Rachel's requests before him.

"She _didn't_ stop fighting." Vergil confirmed quietly, as Nero shook from both pain and guilt, doubling over into the floor. He couldn't support his ribs, the way they were beaten.

"Her senses would've gradually closed off. She would've focused on nothing but the limited amounts of air you allowed her to breathe."

"SHUT UP! I don't wanna hear that! Stop!" Nero wheezed, sitting on his heels. "I can't-... I know, I'm a murderer, I'm not fit to be a human, or a demon, I don't have a place, why won't you just say yes? Just kill me after I get her!"

Nero felt that this was the right thing to do. A life for a life. And he could see Kyrie again...

Vergil raised his chin. He was about to agree when Dante stood tall next to the boy.

"Because we're brothers." he said forcefully. "And I have obligations."

Vergil sneered. The memory was roused, and although livid with rage, once that stuck in his mind he couldn't agree to kill the boy no more than he could agree to go completely nude for an entire month.

(A/N: Oh yeah, I'd be in on that. Sorry, but it's been very man on man, and a girl needs some stimulation...ahem.)

"You're a fool to befriend him. How long before he turns on your wife? The little children? Any pathetic morsel who denies him?" Vergil asked snidely.

"Who's gunna deny him?" Dante snorted, facade laughing but eyes intent. "Looks like his, he's a total babe magnent."

Nero was panting for air, and still shivering, looking between the two.

Two brothers, and uncle, and an offspring of some description. They were family. They knew how the game would be played. And the game in question had everyone in check.

Dante was in danger of being attacked by Vergil for defending the kid.

Vergil was in danger of losing the kid, who was the only one who could pull Rachel out of LImbo.

Nero just wanted to die. And that made a man dangerous.

It was clear to everyone on the rocky outlook that neither brother was going to back down. It was the way Dante shoved his chest out, cocked his hip, crossed his arms over his chest. It was the way Vergil didn't so much as blink as his eyes bored into Dante's.

"Why me?" Nero dared ask. "Can't you just kill me now-?"

"The Law of Redmption." the twins muttered simultanisously. Vergil cocked an eyebrow.

"You knew?"

"Uncle filled me in when the kid was getting his ass handed to him." Dante shrugged.

"The Law states that in the event a Guardian has reason and evidance as to why their subject shouldn't die," Vergil informaed the boy, looking down his nose at him. "Timing and Fate and Destiny and such, then the Council decides to send the subject to limbo. They need to have other Guardians whilst they stay, because the subject in question isn't truly dead. That means-" he explained hasitly, as Nero looked up hopefully.

"-The body lives. And will live forever, unless you find her soul and give it back to her."

"Her...Soul? But why is it me?"

Dante rolled his eyes. "Redemption. Re-demp-tion. Your Guardian and her Guardian must be pretty tight, because in Limbo, anything goes. Like, if you go in there to save her and all, you could take her memories and bottle them up. You could rip apart her body and sell the peices in the black market. You could rape..."

Vergil's looked of pure hate startled him into shutting up.

"It is you, and only you." Vergil said quietly. "Besides, we're much too demon to enter LImbo. Otherwise..." he gave the kid a small, decidedly evil smile. "You'd be dead."

"On that bright and cheery note," Dante said in a voice that was neither bright nor cheery, "we should get going."


	17. Kiss Kiss Kiss

TehOdd1 xoox

* * *

**Recap:**

"It is you, and only you." Vergil said quietly. "Besides, we're much too demon to enter Limbo. Otherwise..." he gave the kid a small, decidedly evil smile. "You'd be dead."

"On that bright and cheery note," Dante said in a voice that was neither bright nor cheery, "we should get going."

* * *

I stared at Eva for a long time. Those cheekbones...That cupid's bow...The eyes... Why did_ I _not see it before?

"You're his...He's your..." I gaped alot like Craig had the first time we'd met.

"Yes. My husband - Sparda, his father - contacted me with a description. Dark hair, wild eyes. I thought it was you, but they said that you were almost masculine in appearance, if you weren't so tiny. Boy-ish, would be in pants or shorts. But you aren't-"  
I glared at Lana, who shifted uneasily.

"Oops."

"'Oops'?" I said through gritted teeth. "If you hadn't have been so damn interfering we wouldn't have been in this situation."

"I thought-"

"You thought wrong!" I growled, getting to my feet. "I told you to put me back the way I was. Several. Times."

Lana ducked her head down.

Eva cocked an eyebrow, still calmly sat the way she was.

I smoothed out my dress, and apologised quietly to her for exploding.

"If you hadv'e done so sooner, I would've known." she said evenly, getting to her feet. "I'd know that glare anywhere. Come." she held out her hand, and began to lead me down a path.

Lana did not follow.

"She meant well."

"She knew I was uncomfortable."

"She didn't understand."

"Oh, she understood."

"She's a doe, Rachel." she said softly, drawing a rectangle in the air with the tip of her finger. "She envies your body."

I looked down at my standard, two legs, two arms, and a torso equasion. What was envious about this? The amount of flaws the human body possesed was astounding. Knees and ankles, for example. Temples and throats - which was part of the reason I died, if you remember correctly. There were points of weakness that should'nt be envied.

Eva said a word that made the air sing, and when I looked up, there was a red curtain, just sitting idly in the middle of the road. Exactly where she'd drawn it, no less.

"That's where he'll come through. Be ready to catch him. I can't touch him." she told me quickly, stepping to the side. "Be ready, Rachel."

"There!" said a voice on the other side of the curtain. It was a voice I'd listened to, reveled in, dreamed of, since I was four.

"Master!" I cried out, tears touching my eyes.

"Don't touch the curtain." Eva warned. "Not yet. Only when you pass back with him. Otherwise, you'll get lost."

"Master!" I said again, my heart racing against the confines of my chest.

"Rachel, listen to me." he said, and I swear I could've reached out and touched him, he was so close. "I am in Hell."

"Hell?!" I freaked. "What the hell are you in Hell for?! I'll kill him, I swear revenge, it was Nero, wasn't it?! That asswhole, if I ever see him again-!"

"Rachel." my Master said in his quiet happy tone of voice. I silenced my worries. "You must pass through Hell to come back to your body. I am only here to supervise. Do you understand?"

"You aren't dead?"

"No, Rachel." Oh good lord I missed that voice. "Do you understand, Rachel? You will pass, just for a moment, through Hell."

"Yes, Master. I understand."

"Good girl. Now, step away from the curtain."

I did as I was told, and stood in stance, as Eva indicated.

"Will...Will you be there when I wake up?" I asked, trying to stay cool. But I knew as well as he did, that my voice was all over the place. "Master?"

"You answer her right, Vergil Aneglo." Eva said sternly, hands falling to her hips. "And if you don't I'm coming in after her."

There was a small silence. Then: "Mother?"

I could hear Dante clamouring in the background.

"Did you say mum wassere? Verge, Verge, Verge! _Verge, _God damn you!"

"Dante Sparda, don't make me wash out your mouth!" she said, appalled.

There were a few murmurs, then: "Hi, mum!"

Eva just laughed.

"Send him through, Dante. She's about ready for her father, I suppose." she mulled the thought over.

"My what?" I asked her, taking my eyes off the curtain.

"My son, your father. You may not be related, but as far as I'm concerned, you are kin."

My heart lifted, and I swear I could've flown.

Then a white haired somebody flew through the curtain and knocked me flat on my back.

I wrapped my arms around them, death hug style, and kissed the top of his head.

"I-" kiss. "-am never-" kiss kiss. "-leaving you again!" kiss kiss kiss- SQUEAL AND RUN.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Nero yelled, trying to protect his face as I rolled him over and started to beat the crap out of him.

"YOU KILLED ME!" I bellowed, punch after punch after punch.

"I tried to say but Dante-"

"YOU FREAKING _KILLED _ME!"

"-Dante said it was better if you thought Vergil went through-!"

"Don't you so much as speak a syllabal of his name!"

"Rachel!" barked my master. "Hurry. The portal only lasts so long."

I didn't care what he said, in all honesty. I kept hitting.

Nero rolled onto me and held down my arms, and I struggled, absolutely furious!

"Rachel, wait, just listen." he said breathlessly.

His face was covered in scratches, and bruises. His nose looked broken. One eye was swollen so horribly I couldn't see the whites.

"Talk." I demanded, ceasing my struggles.

"I'm sorry." he said, and when I opened my mouth, he let out a sound resembling a huff and sat me up, hugging me tightly. "I'm really, really sorry."

"What the hell happened to your face?" I asked, pushing away from his shoulder to touch his cheek lightly.

He gave me a tired smile.

"Your Master happened."

Eva sighed. "I should've known."

I glared. "That doesn't explain why you-!"

"I killed you, I'm sorry. Your master has promised to kill me after I take you home."

I glared. "Leave it to me." I said coldly. "You'll be dead in seconds."

"Look, I get you're mad-"

"I'm fucking furious."

"-And I would be too, but the curtain is going to close."

"It bloody is curtains for you, pal." I said nastily.

I heard Dante laugh. "NOICE!"

"Thank you!" I hollered back before returning to glowering.

His face had changed. Now there was that annoying as shit fire in his eyes again. The same fire that provoked the fight which ended up in my death...

I don't know how it happened, but it happened, and we were fighting. I was vaugely aware of Eva telling us to cut it out, and Lana's annoying voice yelling something...the hooves on rocks, thundering down the path way... My master demanding I come through the curtain _this instant_, Dante yelling out obsenities...

"Eva! Eva! They're comming, they're comming!"

"Oh, damn. Damn, damn, damn! You two, stop this!"

I heard a wolf call and Eva looked up, stressed, and then Nero managed to get a single hit in to my face before I rolled him over and pummelled him again.

The wolf was a female, that much I could hear. She had a toughened voice, like she was used to taking control, barking out orders. She struck me as the kind of person - wolf - that would teach a karate lesson, or a woman of influential power.

They shared a few words and then I stopped hitting Nero, getting rolled onto my spine. I pushed his head up to see three massive blue-white dragons heading towards us, bellowing streams of fire.

Eva must've thought we were still fighting when we where trying to stand each other up, because she cursed and pulled us apart by the scruff.

"Now get behind that curtain!" she said in a voice that no one could dare defy.

But in an extremely coincidental event, Lana went to kick us into the curtain anyway, and her hoof collected Eva and I, sending us both backward with Eva still holding on...

The wolf's eyes were an emerald shade of green, and before I knew it she had snapped her jaws in effort to try and stop Eva, inches away from my nose...

"Luna!" I gasped, knowing wholly that she was _my Guardian_.

She didn't react. Well, she might've, but I wouldn't have seen. We fell through the curtain, grasping each other in fear, and Eva screamed.

It sounded a bit like: "I hate heights I hate heights I hate heights!"

We were dropped onto a dark grey ground, then dragged, our dresses catching only long enough for a man with glasses and completely in Black armour to shout: "Eva!" and try to pry her away... I kicked him under the jaw, bending his helmet into his chin, shouting: "Keep your filthy hands to yourself, four eyes!" ... Eva clutched him as we went through the next curtain, and instead of falling, we were flying upward.

I hazarded a glance up, only to shriek and hold Nero a little closer... "We are going to smash into that roof!"

"Hold on!"

"What the hell else am I supposed to do?"

"Rachel, don't start-"

But we ran right into the roof, as I predicted, and I felt suddenly weightless...

"Come here." my Master's voice said.

I don't remember finding my body or going into it, exactly, but I remember opening my eyes to the best sight in the world.

Him.


	18. First Time Around

TehOdd1 xoox

* * *

**Recap:**

"What the hell else am I supposed to do?"

"Rachel, don't start-"

But we ran right into the roof, as I predicted, and I felt suddenly weightless...

"Come here." my Master's voice said.

I don't remember finding my body or going into it, exactly, but I remember opening my eyes to the best sight in the world.

Him.

* * *

"Hello." I said quietly.

"Hello, indeed." he said, his voice amused. "Can you sit?"

My vision was blurry, and everything, including my sight, felt weak. My face felt odd, like this one time where he had challenged me to act like a statue for a complete day. I won the bet. He didn't think I could.

"I..." I winced, then sat up, with his hand under my arm for aid.

"What do you need?" he asked quietly, and I rubbed my eyes from the harsh light.

"Water. Please." I said softly, dropping my eyes from him, my voice feeling just as weak as the rest of me.

I made a noise at my 'outfit of choice', then accepted the glass hungrily. After I had finished, I asked: "What is this provocative nascence?"

He chuckled, and sat by my legs, tipping my chin up so that our eyes met.

"That's exactly what I said." he informed me quietly.

He quizzed me silently, and I did my best not to let anything except tiredness show.

"Do you remember?" he asked abruptly.

My eyes dropped to the glass in my hand. I didn't know what he was talking about, but suddenly all sorts of excuses flooded my mind. 'You told me to go with Dante, so I just enjoyed his company, because you told me to,' 'I had a guard, I swear Master, it was that arm that killed me,' 'No, I don't remember.'

Oh, choices, choices.

"Remember Limbo, going through Hell, that aspect of life. Or as it is, death." he mused.

"Yes Master." I answered my glass.

"Do you remember the man with the glasses?"

"The one in black armour. I kicked him under the chin and he didn't so much as say 'ouch'."

"No, my father isn't known for 'ouches'." he said, and his voice was entirely amused.

I looked up sharply.

"Your father?"

"He heard my mother's yelling. About heights, was it?"

"Yes Master." I said quietly, dropping my head again. Why couldn't I look at him?

There was a small pause, as if he were considering, then he continued quietly: "They came through. It seems that arm of the boy's gave them bodies they shouldn't have rightly had. It is also apparent that my father's power is quite his own, which probes why all Hell hasn't broken loose."

"Because it's an entirely new power." I mumbled, turning the glass around in my fingers. "Like his body, that is new, and so unto him is his power."

I didn't know what I was expecting. A pat on the head, a small smile, a 'yes, my thoughts exactly, Rachel', and a steaming bowl of lentil soup was what I thought would happen. And I waited for about three minutes when I realised nothing was going to happen unless I raised my head.

"Dante said you missed me." he said gently.

"I got by." I didn't deny it, it wasn't lying. He couldn't tell me so, because technically I did get by. Until I was murdered.

I was murdered.

Suddenly the mask started to waver, and I threw my legs off the small wooden cot.

"That complete and total, utter imbecile!" I bellowed hoarsely, accepting his arm to lean on as I wobbled out of the small, dark room.

I realised for a moment, that I was in a cave. It was dark, and rocky, as you would expect, and there was the smell of wet moss in the air, but it was warm and dry on the inside. My Master lead me down a small hallway, then into a much larger, split leveled area.

Then I saw Nero slurping up noodles and tried to kill him.

"I am going to kill you!"

"Easy on, hang on, Rachel, _fuck, _relax-!" he said, dodging me from the other side of the table. I no longer needed my Master's support to walk. Because I wasn't walking. I was attacking.

And if you so much as lived with my master for a week, you'd be doing more attacking then walking too, let me tell you.

I scrambled over the table and leapt at him, but he was slightly more aware than I and dodged. I took the fall neatly, rolling quickly and then getting to my feet.

With a grunt I lept over the table, caught his arm, and flipped him over my head. He rolled as I had done, and dodged the large rock I had kicked at him.

"You know if you just stop moving it'll be over quickly." I said through gritted teeth.

"Listen to me, just for one second!" Nero exploded.

"What could you possibly say that could make this any better?" I snapped, folding my arms across my chest jerkily.

Nero considered. Then let out a small: "Uhmmm..."

"Exactly. Now." I stood in stance and ordered him forward.

He ran in the opposite direction, diving over the edge of something I could tell by sound was a waterfall.

I began to run after him, but a large arm encircled my waist and I was hefted over a meaty shoulder.

It wasn't my Master, who regarded me from his place at the hallway entrance, or Dante, who was probing the remains of Nero's noodles.

I managed a twist and slunk out off his grip only long enough to be swept upside down by my ankle. I sat up, using muscels in my stomach that hadn't been used in a very long time but where thankfully still there, and punched him square in the beard.

Once again, I was disapointed with the reaction. He laughed.

"Naw, Verge, she's so cute!" he exclaimed in a husky voice.

"I'll give you cute!" I snarled, placing my hands on the floor and using my free foot to porpell him over my head. I stepped into stance and eyed him distastefully. Man he had _massive_ arms.

He chuckled loudly and got to his feet. "Naw, she's got moves, alright. Been a while since anyone flipped me on my ass, let me tell you."

"You wanna go round two?" I asked dangerously.

"Rachel, what is it about us white haired males you can't help but pick fights with?" My Master asked amusedly from the corner.

"Repressed desire." I muttered, before the man had sunk _into_ the floor. Around him where waves made out of shadows, as if he'd pin dropped into water. But that water wasn't water, and it smelled like melted metal.

In a split second I realised he was behind me and turned with a kick – a kick I was extremely proud of, considering I hadn't stretched and it made to the centre of his face. He caught my ankle, his blue eyes twinkling. I pushed up from the floor and kicked him in the face, then the chest.

He didn't move, and he didn't let my ankle go. I wobbled dangerously, tugging on the foot he currently held captive.

Just sat there like a fool, smirking behind that big grey beard of his.

I wobbled on my foot once it touched the floor again, then narrowed my eyes with a twisted little smile.

"You might want to let that go." I told him coolly.

"What are you gunna do if I don't?" he chuckled. "I can take kicks, sweetheart, and punches? Ahh, they felt like a massage. Go again, please." he taunted.

I smirked, the smirk that only my Master had taught me how to do.

"Well, you did ask nicely." I drawled.

I whipped my free foot out, kicked him in the groin. Then again, then under the chin, then in the stomach twice, followed by another to the groin.

I finished with a back flip, pushing up and off his rapidly crumbling body.

He collapsed, and Dante groped himself, letting out a loud, "Oooh, that hurt me, even from over here!"

I smirked, victorious, and straightened what little there was to straighten of the shirt that obviously came from Trish.

"Really, Vergil." said a deep voice from behind me.

I turned, punching only out of reflex, but he blocked it, and continued as if being attacked like this happened everyday: "I didn't know you'd school your students to sink to levels such as these."

I followed through with all sorts of varying upper and lower cut punches, but he blocked them all easily enough to push his glasses back up his nose whilst still defending himself.

With one hand.

I slowed my left punch, then managed a single clip to the chin with my right.

He turned his entire body, letting it glance off, and I flew with the momentum into my Master, who caught me around my ribs.

"Rachel, may I introduce my father," he said quietly, turning me gently to motion to the slitghtly taller man wearing glasses.

He rubbed his jaw where I'd clipped him, then straightened self righteously.

"My name is Sparda." he introduced himself in that slow, deep voice of his.

His hair was slicked back, much like my master's, only longer, and tied in a neat pony tail at the base of his neck. He had severe cheek bones, and smooth skin. He was, without doubt, the most handsome man I had ever seen, including my master.

His clothes were clean, and neat, and so gentlemanly. The entire air about him was like that – but he radiated power. Something dark and attractive hid behind his eyes. He, in himself, was extremely attractive.

I held out my hand, raising my chin importantly. "Pleasure."

He took it, turned my knuckles upwward, and kissed them softly, the light catching his glasses and throwing into my eyes,

"No, I daresay the pleasure is all mine."

I cleared my throat and took back my hand, holding it close to my chest. His skin felt like embodied electricity.

"And my uncle, Angelo." my Master continued, pointing to the man Dante was helping off the floor.

I grinned. "I believe we're already intimately acquainted."

"'Intimate' isn't a word I'd use." Dane said with a maniacal smirk.

"No, Dante," my Master sighed. "I don't suppose you would use a word like 'Intimate'."

They squabbled, as I predicted they would. I was too busy feeling my lips, touching my eyes and my abs like I'd never seen them before. I realised I had lost a fair bit of weight, but then again, I didn't know how long I'd been sleeping.

I mainly stroked at my abs though. I had worked so hard to get them - standing or sitting or straining in varying positions to get them, mind you - and I didn't realise how much they aided my daily fights.

I tried to think about other things. I tried to think about the way that Dante was talking was only going to infuriate my Master, and that my Master's Uncle and his father looked scarily alike.

I tried to think about how Dom and Max would react when I walked through the door again, or if they'd even let the kids known I had died.

I failed, in trying to think about other things. Like my master, I brooded over the tiniest of mistakes, but a single one had literally cost my life.

I walked away when Dante asked me what was wrong. I didn't know what was wrong. And I didn't care.

(Or, I tried not to.)

I sat at the edge of the waterfall as a soggy Nero came up it, dragging himself up with his claw. He managed to get to my foot before looking up with a horrified look on his face.

"Ah, crap." he said, and looked over his shoulder like he was preparing to jump down again.

"Why did you kill me?" I asked him abruptly, staring him straight in the eye. "Keep in mind, if you don't answer, I'm going to start screaming 'rape'."

"And he'd absolutely kill me dead, then, wouldn't he?" he asked weakly.

I repressed the desire to roll my eyes.

"Yes. He'd kill you dead."

He shifted uncomfortably under my stare, then cleared his throat and looked up at me again.

"I killed you... And I'm sorry, for doing that, I swear, I thought you were just pretending, even ask Dante... I killed you... because I....Well...Firstly, I didn't think you would go and be all dramatic and die. I just wanted you to shut up - I thought you were just passing out, because people pass out before they die...when you..." he cleared his throat, a blush working over his cheeks. "Strangle them."

"So I died because I was being a little bit too sassy for you?" I said slowly.

He winced.

"Yeah. I guess you did... But I'm sorry, Rachel... Really, really sorry. Not just because your Master wants to kill me for it, not because you'll probably end up killing me for it, but because I didn't actually want you to die."

I blinked, accepted, then offered him a hand up, fully intending to push him off once he got his footing again.

Unfortunately for me, my Master only saw me going down, and him coming up, and automatically put the _'Rachel is being pulled off a waterfall + By the same boy who recently killed her = MUST ATTACK NERO'_ equasion together, and ripped me away from Nero's hand as he swung around and kicked him in the face, and off the waterfall.

I just sighed, and cringed at the impact of Nero's splayed figure hitting the water with a large clap.

"I was going to do that." I said quietly, looking at the shadow under the water a hundred meters away instead of the face an inch from my own.

I still couldn't look at him.

"I'm sure." he said, in the same quiet voice, lowering me down to my feet and helping me walk very slowly to the cave.

I ate my own weight in food - including the noodles Nero had abandoned - and then played a half a game of chess with Sparda. I would've liked to play some more, but after three hours and only two pawns missing from either side, I decided to forfeit prematurely, and sleep a few more hours.

I was tired, I will admit. But I could've kept playing. I would've won eventually, too. It was just that intense staring at the side of my head I could no longer be subjected to, even though I'd been subject to it most of my remembered life.

Well, the first time around, any way.


	19. Spot the demon

OK, here's a chunk of writing, seemingly pointless, but kinda vital. It's a bit of a break for Rachel, and co., and interactions.

Thanks everybody for favouriteing, and reviewing.

TehOdd1 xoox

* * *

**Recap:**

I was tired, I will admit. But I could've kept playing. I would've won eventually, too. It was just that intense staring at the side of my head I could no longer be subjected to, even though I'd been subject to it most of my remembered life.

Well, the first time around, any way.

* * *

I later learned that I had slept through an entire demonic attack that had made the mountain Angelo lived in crumple to nothing.

But before I did, I woke up in Dante's shop, on the couch, covered in a fluffy white blanket.

I had a shiny blue dragon under one arm, and a fluffy red tiger under the other. I smiled at both, before being jumped on by the owners.

"OHMIGAWD OHMIGAWD OHMIGAWD!" Dom giggled, whilst Max took to squeezing me very tightly, in a death-by-hug kind of way. "RACHEL! RACHEL! RACHEL! GUESS WHAT, GUESS WHAT, GUESS WHAT!!"

"Uhmm...." I wheezed, because Max had inexplicably strong arms, for a five year old. "You...got flashing sneakers?" (because he did seem rather excited about them last time I was...Alive?)

"NO! WE GOT A GRANDPA!" he shrieked, jumping up and clapping. "A GRANDPA AND A GRANDMA AND AN UNCLE AND A GRANDAD!"

I just nodded like I knew what he was talking about, so Max planted his chin on my shoulder whilst Dom ran around in circles on the coffee table, singing a very off tune song about having a family.

"Grandfather Sparda." he explained calmly, though his arms remained tight around my middle. "Our grandmother Eva, Uncle Vergil and Grandad Angelo. Father explained everything." his eyes flashed, and I knew instantly that he had been informed of my death. "_Nero_-" (I noticed the absence of the pre fix 'uncle') "-has been hiding in his room. Uncle Vergil says that you have to wake up soon, and eat something, or you'll collapse under your own weight. He told me to escort you to the kitchen when you woke." he said proudly.

I could tell that in having someone so formal around him, he was more than pleased, and having been asked to do something by said person made him feel important.

He now knew where he got his formal tongue from, the obsessive taste of blue, and the like of swords as opposed to guns. I knew the two would get along - to a point - better than Dom and my master ever would.

I leaned on Max a little more than I was sure he could handle, because I literally was collapsing under my own weight. Dom ran to my other side, and I resisted making each one grab a foot and drag me the rest off the way.

Instead, I smiled, and ruffled his hair, and put my hand on his shoulder.

"Daaaad," Dom announced, pushing open the door ahead of us. "She's awake!"

There were three of the legendary knights in the kitchen - my Master, sitting coolly at the head of the table, Angelo, sitting on the bench and picking at his teeth with a tooth pick, and Dante.

Funnily enough, Dante was semi-naked, with an apron hiding the majority of his front, wielding a searing hot pan of what looked to be a flat bit of pasty.

"Mornin'." he said groggily, turning around to rub the sleep out of bloodshot eyes with his knuckle.

I rose an eyebrow. "You got no sleep because...?"

"Trish," he said with a particularly angsty sigh, flipping the circular pastry. "Went nuts because I brought Vergil in, who was carrying you. Then Dom was having his nightly terrors, and Max wasn't with him, so he went a little nuts himself and destroyed half of upstairs before Dad came in. We settled everything down, the kids stayed up long enough to meet everyone, and Trish and mum hit it off over a cup of tea. I suggested poker, and by the time I was broke, mum and Trish were asleep in my bed, Verge was up by somethin' like fifty grand, and uncle Ange and Dad just left me saying that they knew something that I didn't, and welcome to fatherhood. By the time I heard the insane giggles of the two extremely hyperactive children I shouldn't have fathered into the world, and Verge went and stayed with you for a while before I realised he was catchin' z's in the remnants of Max's bed."

I wasn't listening. I was more amused that as Dante was speaking, his two 'extremely hyperactive children he shouldn't have fathered into the world' were mimicking everything he said, as he said it, with added flourishes and acts.

They had sat me down beside my master, who was watching them amusedly, one hand holding a cup of steaming black coffee and the other holding a newspaper.

"...And no one even cares I'm the only one that got no sleep last night!" Dante finished, forking the pastry like object onto a plate and smothering it with some sweetly smelling liquid.

"No," my master, Dom, Max, Angelo, and I answered at the same time, in the same dead and uncaring tone.

Dom and Max succumbed to giggles whilst Angelo gave Dante a hearty laugh and slap on the back.

The door swung open, and Nero shuffled in, looking at me and my master sheepishly before dragging his feet over to Dante.

"Can I have a pancake?" he asked quietly. Dante gave him an affirmative, and Angelo ruffled his hair. I rolled my eyes - and caught my master's.

I realised that it was the fear of hurt that prevented me from looking at him before - because I hurt now. I couldn't look into his eyes without remembering that he threw me out of his home, purely because he enjoyed my company.

He pushed the newspaper to me, and I lowered my eyes to it, thankful that I had a distraction.

"Spot the demon." he told me.

I searched through the thing quickly, Dom and Max devouring whatever it was Dante had made - I myself wasn't all too trusting of it - and answered to the game we'd been playing since I'd learned his sense of humour.

"There's a lust demon on page four, top right hand corner, a paranormal vortex in place of that 'nuclear disaster' on page seventeen, a particularly rabid vampire attack on page thirty two, a small article on a lawyer who never loses, whom I suspect to be a demon of pride, and -" I frowned, forgetting my place, flicked through the paper to a different page, and slid it over to him.

"That's the result of a dead snow toad and a gander of particularly hungry scarecrows."

"A gander?" Dante repeated stupidly. "Innit that a goose?"

"It's a group of scarecrows." Angelo said, looking impressed. "Like a school of fish, or a flock of birds."

"Correct," my master said impassively, then rose his eyebrow at the 'gas pipe explosion' in front of him, and turned it on me. "Excluding this. _This_, is the result of a large fault, festering under the city until some sort of energy signal triggered it."

"A fault?" Dom and Dante repeated.

"Do you remember, back in Fortuna, those things that would come up out of the forest floor?" Nero said, around a mouthful of pancake.

All eyes flicked to him, so he swallowed with a wince and sat down at the foot of the table, next to Max, who turned his nose away from him.

"Those...Those things that took you under ground?" Dante quizzed, scratching his head with the handle of the spatula. "Those little blooming flower things that had me jumping around like a retard?"

"That's a fault." Nero supplied, before lowering his head to his food.

I literally had to prod my master out of whatever particularly violent fantasy he was in, so that he'd keep explaining.

"Indeed..." he cleared his throat and turned his eyes to the paper. "This is a fault. Not a dead snow toad."

"But..." I frowned. I'd only ever gotten anything wrong when I was learning how to play the game in the first place. Then after years of looking for demonic signs, I was a pro at 'Spot the Demon'.

"That's a piece of snow toad there," I pointed to a large piece of intestine hanging halfway off of the picture. "and if I have half as much knowledge of blades, and the marks they leave, as you do, then I know that_ that _is precisely the type of blade signature that scarecrows leave."

"Indeed it is," he countered with a nod, "but a fault may have just digested the scarecrow, and the blade a result of it's explosion."

Trust me, I could go into detail with the argument that followed. I countered that while possible, faults didn't explode unless killed, and he pointed out that the demon hunters weren't just confined to this room. I reminded him that once snow toads die, they explode, and the liklihood of the snow toad being attacked by scarecrows in groups was more likely then a fault being conquered by a random hunter.

We continued, staying civil, yet determined to prove the other wrong. In the end, Dante, Dom, Max and Angelo were on my side, while Trish, Sparda, Eva and Nero returned the combat.

"I'd bet my left nut that it isn't a fault." Dante declared, jabbing a finger at the paper.

"Dante, please, not in front of your mother." Sparda said airily, studying the paper with his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "This is a fault. Look at the leaf pattern."

"Bu' when the hell have you ever come across an exploding fault?" Angelo countered, his hand on the back of my chair. "In all my years of huntin' and seein' and fightin', I ain't never seen anythin' like this."

"It's 'isn't', not 'ain't'," I corrected, watching the paper be passed back to my master. "And it is possible, there are documents of the events, though it was probed by energy signals to rival even yours, and as I am informed, you were here last night."

My master smirked into his paper, then pointed out the significant little fact: "Scarecrows aren't smart enough to hunt in ganders."

I creased my brow as Trish gave the top of my head a satisfied smirk. Then I gave one of my own and met my master's rather prematurely victorious eyes.

"But if it were a fault," I drawled, leaning back in my chair and taking a sip of Dante's long cold coffee, "surely it would have evidence of roots."

Master Vergil snatched up the paper, and his eyes scanned the page like it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. Dante started to laugh, as did Angelo, as they both knew that I was right, and he was wrong.

For once.

"We're hangin' with the smart kids, we're hangin' with the smart kids," Dom and Max started to skip around, linked by the arms, singing in perfect correspondence to each other.

Sparda took they paper, and he too, frowned over it before shrugging and admitting defeat. Trish went to go do a load of washing in a huff. Nero retreated to his room, Dom in tow. Something about video games?

And Max, whom I did quite adore, sat across from me, and ask my master how the game was played, and if he could teach him the, and quoting the words of a five year old: "Rules and regulations of the game, so that I may evaluate them and find ways to talk my way into winning within the boundaries."

I couldn't help but smirk. My master was still frowning at the page, when he still explained the game to Max quietly.

Max held absolute attention on him.

"I have been trying to beat him at this game since I was three!" Dante told me haughtily, slapping my shoulder. "Good work, Rach!"

"Thank you." I said serenely, and drank some more of his coffee.

He slid a plate in front of me, with three of those giant pancake things. The sweet smelling liquid was more of a syrup, and I prodded it, frowning.

"What is this?" I asked him blankly.

"Those, are the best pancakes you'll ever eat." he said happily.

Angelo looked up with a syrup flavoured beard and nodded enthusiastically, inhaling the pancakes faster than Dante could cook them.

"But...What is it?" I asked, lifting an edge with a fork.

He gawked, and Angelo sweat dropped. Max rose an eyebrow in a fashion that my master soon followed.

"Have I not taught you about pancakes?" he quizzed.

"You've taught me alot of things, but food isn't one of them." I informed him, still prodding the pancake like it could hurt me. "Did you know the humans eat bursting star babies now?"

_"'The humans'_?" Dante choked. "_'Star bursting babies'? _Verge, man, what is wrong with you?" he groaned, tugging his apron off and lifting Max with one hand to sit him on his knee.

Now I didn't notice Dante's physique before. He was always half naked, yes, I realised this now, but I wasn't particularly interested on what his body looked like. But my God, he had a fantastic body.

His pecs weren't as firm or taut as my master's, but his abs rivalled even my own. His entire body was rippling with muscle in places where my master was bony. Like his hips, for example. Dante's hips were shadowed in a muscular sort of way, where as my master's were just protruding.

Dante's arms were thicker than his too, and I put that down to the constant aiming of guns, where my master would've killed everything already.

All in all, Dante was stronger. Definitely stronger. And had an amazing physique.

But back to the up and coming world war seven. (If you include the demonic ones.)

"Nothing is wrong with me," my master said impassively, pulling my plate toward him to sniff the offered food. "I gave her a completely healthy upbringing, ignorant to calories and sugar induced highs -"

"Yeah, she gave me that speel." Dante said, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say he was angry. "But she's never had _pancakes_?"

"What are they, exactly?" I asked.

I was ignored. I had only ever been ignored as a child, so to me, this was the equivalent of being slapped in the face.

(Not that I couldn't deal with a slap in the face. I'd dealt with plenty. Still, it's the metaphor.)

"Pancakes are full of sugar." he dismissed, glaring at Dante, who then promptly slid the plate back over to me.

I opened my mouth to excuse myself when Dante growled over the top of it.

"She's fifteen years old-"

"I am aware of how old she is-"

"-and she hasn't ever had pancakes-?"

"-it's only a travesty to you, Dante, who is fuelled by carbs and caffeine-"

"-so are you, you were drinking coffee before I ever did-"

"-I was doing alot of things before the thought even crossed your mind-"

"Ew." Max said, scrunching his face up.

And to that, I let out a laugh, because really, what else was I going to do? I hid the lower part of my face under my hands and giggled pointedly until the child in Max succumbed, and he laughed too.

Angelo chuckled, and soon after Dante was grinning, as per usual.

Max slid off his knee and clambered onto mine, and I held onto his waist as I so often watched Dante do. Max put his head on my collar bone and I laughed into his hair, smoothing it away from his forehead and smirking widely at his own giggles.

Master Vergil shifted uncomfortably, and stood.

"Fine. Have a taste of the pancakes then. I could care less."

"Clearly, you could." I pointed out with out thinking. "As you seem to be exceedingly aggravated."

Before I knew what had happened - which is a rarity, because not alot escapes me - Max was ripped out of my grasp and I was picked up and thrown into a warm wall of muscle.

"Vergil!" barked Angelo from above me, his arms holding my severely dazed self up. Keep in mind, at this point I'd slept through the better part of a week and hadn't eaten since the cave.

"That's enough - just because she caught your ass out doesn't mean you can man handle her -"

"I can do whatever I want to her." my master seethed through gritted teeth. "She's mine."

"Where's Max?" I asked weakly.

Dante was glaring holes into the back of my master's head, and holding an absolutely terrified Max. I would too, if I was as close to a glare like that.

"Oh." I said.

"She's not completely unbreakable, Vergil." Angelo chided.

I weighed the chances of his survival for trying to school my master and figured it was slim to none.

"I know that." he managed to grind out. "After pulling her from the grips of death, of course I know that."

"Do you?" Angelo countered, easing me into Sparda's arms - when the hell did he get there? - and prowling a little a ways from me. They were going to fight, and it was all because I had opened my mouth in a retort.

I made the connection between my murder and the up and comming war, and decided I had better stick to as little speech as possible, in future.

Sparda watched them with indifference, as I struggled and protested and tried to get somebody's attention.

Now, before I tell you the next part, there is something I have to mention. As I did tell you, I haven't been ignored scince I was a child. And being ignored made me feel like one. Not only that, but I was being held against the very firm chest of the father of my father figure - which practically made him my grandfather, in my eyes. When I was around Max, I felt like a child. The sort of child I had never been allowed to show.

So, all these facts combinded, I threw a tantrum.

"What the hell is wrong with you males?!" I yelled, then broke out of Sparda's grip. I turned on him and pushed him away for good mesure, just to get my point through.

"You," I bellowed, stabbing a finger at Angelo, "have no logical rights or responsibilities to me, you have nothing on me except for housing me for however long it was. I thank you for that, but you have nothing that says I should be treated otherwise!"

Then I turned on Sparda.

"You have no right to restrain me, shush me, quiet me down when you know full well what I would be preventing if you did something other then let the egotistical, testosterone driven males of the house go head to head with each other! Wheather you wanted something to watch, to entertain you, I don't know, and I don't care, but I am not letting Dante's house and home be destroyed over something as petty as this!"

Dante let out a confirming: "Yeah!"

Then I turned on him.

"And you! You walzt around and pick fights for no other reason then to fight! You are so freaking predictable! And this stupidity about food - it's food, for crying out loud. It does the same thing as any other food - it goes in, and it comes out, you get the picture? I don't care for flavours, trust me, there are no flavours how I was brought up."

Then I turned on my master, and pointed at him, but the words wouldn't come. I wanted to yell at him, I truly did. But his calmed and impassive face told me too many things. I read that, in saying what I had said, I had let a female, emotional response slip, and that was something he constantly taught me to hold in.

I wanted to yell at him and demand that he take me home, where I could see Mira, and give her a hug, and tell her that she did so much for us and thank her. I wanted to yell at him and tell him that I freaking hated him for pushing me away. And being so cold. And not ever showing me the affection that Dante did. Or ever talking to me, _just talking to me_, like Dante did.

Everything was a lesson, with my master, other then to taunt each other when we fought, there was _no talking_.

I jabbed my finger at him again, and the words I wanted to yell came out as a shaky sigh.

"Don't even get me started on you." I said lowly, dropping my hand. "You...You..."

_You pushed me away. You hurt me on purpose. Why can't you be a little more like Dante?_

I sighed, then turned, and slammed the door on my way out.


	20. C'mon, Nero

Many, many thanks to my new Beta, Moiranna, who not only is the very embodiment of awesome, is very kind and helpful too.

MUCH LOVE. 3

Yes, lots of things in this chap, action next chap, I PROMISE.

TehOdd1 xoox

* * *

**Recap:**

I jabbed my finger at him again, and the words I wanted to yell came out as a shaky sigh.

"Don't even get me started on you." I said lowly, dropping my hand. "You...You..."

_You pushed me away. You hurt me on purpose. Why can't you be a little more like Dante?_

I sighed, then turned, and slammed the door on my way out.

* * *

I later learned that I had slept through an entire demonic attack that had made the mountain Angelo lived in crumple to nothing.

But before I did, I woke up in Dante's shop, on the couch, covered in a fluffy white blanket.

I had a shiny blue dragon under one arm, and a fluffy red tiger under the other. I smiled at both, before being jumped on by the owners.

"OHMIGAWD OHMIGAWD OHMIGAWD!" Dom giggled, whilst Max took to squeezing me very tightly, in a death-by-hug kind of way. "RACHEL! RACHEL! RACHEL! GUESS WHAT, GUESS WHAT, GUESS WHAT!!"

"Uhmm...." I wheezed, because Max had inexplicably strong arms, for a five year old. "You...got flashing sneakers?" (because he did seem rather excited about them last time I was...Alive?)

"NO! WE GOT A GRANDPA!" he shrieked, jumping up and clapping. "A GRANDPA AND A GRANDMA AND AN UNCLE AND A GRANDAD!"

I just nodded like I knew what he was talking about, so Max planted his chin on my shoulder whilst Dom ran around in circles on the coffee table, singing a very off tune song about having a family.

"Grandfather Sparda." he explained calmly, though his arms remained tight around my middle. "Our grandmother Eva, Uncle Vergil and Grandad Angelo. Father explained everything." his eyes flashed, and I knew instantly that he had been informed of my death. "_Nero_-" (I noticed the absence of the prefix 'uncle') "-has been hiding in his room. Uncle Vergil says that you have to wake up soon, and eat something, or you'll collapse under your own weight. He told me to escort you to the kitchen when you woke." he said proudly.

I could tell that in having someone so formal around him, he was more than pleased, and having been asked to do something by said person made him feel important.

He now knew where he got his formal tongue from, the obsessive taste of blue, and the like of swords as opposed to guns. I knew the two would get along - to a point - better than Dom and my master ever would.

I leaned on Max a little more than I was sure he could handle, because I literally was collapsing under my own weight. Dom ran to my other side, and I resisted making each one grab a foot and drag me the rest off the way.

Instead, I smiled, and ruffled his hair, and put my hand on his shoulder.

"Daaaad," Dom announced, pushing open the door ahead of us. "She's awake!"

There were three of the legendary knights in the kitchen - my Master, sitting coolly at the head of the table, Angelo, sitting on the bench and picking at his teeth with a toothpick, and Dante.

Funnily enough, Dante was semi-naked, with an apron hiding the majority of his front, wielding a searing hot pan of what looked to be a flat bit of pastry.

"Mornin'." he said groggily, turning around to rub the sleep out of bloodshot eyes with his knuckle.

I rose an eyebrow. "You got no sleep because...?"

"Trish," he said with a particularly angsty sigh, flipping the circular pastry. "Went nuts because I brought Vergil in, who was carrying you. Then Dom was having his nightly terrors, and Max wasn't with him, so he went a little nuts himself and destroyed half of upstairs before Dad came in. We settled everything down, the kids stayed up long enough to meet everyone, and Trish and mum hit it off over a cup of tea. I suggested poker, and by the time I was broke, mum and Trish were asleep in my bed, Verge was up by somethin' like fifty grand, and uncle Ange and Dad just left me saying that they knew something that I didn't, and 'welcome to fatherhood'. By the time I heard the insane giggles of the two extremely hyperactive children I shouldn't have fathered into the world, and Verge went and stayed with you for a while before I realized he was catchin' z's in the remnants of Max's bed."

I wasn't listening. I was more amused that as Dante was speaking, his two 'extremely hyperactive children he shouldn't have fathered into the world' were mimicking everything he said, as he said it, with added flourishes and acts.

They had sat me down beside my master, who was watching them with amusement, one hand holding a cup of steaming black coffee and the other holding a newspaper.

"...And no one even cares I'm the only one that got no sleep last night!" Dante finished, forking the pastry like object onto a plate and smothering it with some sweetly smelling liquid.

"No," my master, Dom, Max, Angelo, and I answered at the same time, in the same dead and uncaring tone.

Dom and Max succumbed to giggles whilst Angelo gave Dante a hearty laugh and slap on the back.

The door swung open, and Nero shuffled in, looking at me and my master sheepishly before dragging his feet over to Dante.

"Can I have a pancake?" he asked quietly. Dante gave him an affirmative, and Angelo ruffled his hair. I rolled my eyes - and caught my master's.

I realized that it was the fear of hurt that prevented me from looking at him before - because I hurt now. I couldn't look into his eyes without remembering that he threw me out of his home, purely because he enjoyed my company.

He pushed the newspaper to me, and I lowered my eyes to it, thankful that I had a distraction.

"Spot the demon." he told me.

I searched through the thing quickly, Dom and Max devouring whatever it was Dante had made - I myself wasn't all too trusting of it - and answered to the game we'd been playing since I'd learned his sense of humour.

"There's a lust demon on page four, top right hand corner, a paranormal vortex in place of that 'nuclear disaster' on page seventeen, a particularly rabid vampire attack on page thirty two, a small article on a lawyer who never loses, whom I suspect to be a demon of pride, and -" I frowned, forgetting my place, flicked through the paper to a different page, and slid it over to him.

"That's the result of a dead snow toad and a gander of particularly hungry scarecrows."

"A gander?" Dante repeated stupidly. "Innit that a goose?"

"It's a group of scarecrows." Angelo said, looking impressed. "Like a school of fish, or a flock of birds."

"Correct," my master said impassively, then rose his eyebrow at the 'gas pipe explosion' in front of him, and turned it on me. "Excluding this. _This_, is the result of a large fault, festering under the city until some sort of energy signal triggered it."

"A fault?" Dom and Dante repeated.

"Do you remember, back in Fortuna, those things that would come up out of the forest floor?" Nero said, around a mouthful of pancake.

All eyes flicked to him, so he swallowed with a wince and sat down at the foot of the table, next to Max, who turned his nose away from him.

"Those...Those things that took you under ground?" Dante quizzed, scratching his head with the handle of the spatula. "Those little blooming flower things that had me jumping around like a retard?"

"That's a fault." Nero supplied, before lowering his head to his food.

I literally had to prod my master out of whatever particularly violent fantasy he was in, so that he'd keep explaining.

"Indeed..." he cleared his throat and turned his eyes to the paper. "This is a fault. Not a dead snow toad."

"But..." I frowned. I'd only ever gotten anything wrong when I was learning how to play the game in the first place. Then after years of looking for demonic signs, I was a pro at 'Spot the Demon'.

"That's a piece of snow toad there," I pointed to a large piece of intestine hanging halfway off of the picture. "and if I have half as much knowledge of blades, and the marks they leave, as you do, then I know that _that _is precisely the type of blade signature that scarecrows leave."

"Indeed it is," he countered with a nod, "but a fault may have just digested the scarecrow, and the blade a result of its explosion."

Trust me, I could go into detail with the argument that followed. I countered that while possible, faults didn't explode unless killed, and he pointed out that the demon hunters weren't just confined to this room. I reminded him that once snow toads die, they explode, and the likelihood of the snow toad being attacked by scarecrows in groups was more likely then a fault being conquered by a random hunter.

We continued, staying civil, yet determined to prove the other wrong. In the end, Dante, Dom, Max and Angelo were on my side, while Trish, Sparda, Eva and Nero returned the combat.

"I'd bet my left nut that it isn't a fault." Dante declared, jabbing a finger at the paper.

"Dante, please, not in front of your mother." Sparda said airily, studying the paper with his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "This is a fault. Look at the leaf pattern."

"Bu' when the hell have you ever come across an exploding fault?" Angelo countered, his hand on the back of my chair. "In all my years of huntin' and seein' and fightin', I ain't never seen anythin' like this."

"It's 'isn't', not 'ain't'," I corrected, watching the paper be passed back to my master. "And it is possible, there are documents of the events, though it was probed by energy signals to rival even yours, and as I am informed, you were here last night."

My master smirked into his paper, then pointed out the significant little fact: "Scarecrows aren't smart enough to hunt in ganders."

I creased my brow as Trish gave the top of my head a satisfied smirk. Then I gave one of my own and met my master's rather premature victorious eyes.

"But if it were a fault," I drawled, leaning back in my chair and taking a sip of Dante's long cold coffee, "surely it would have evidence of roots."

Master Vergil snatched up the paper, and his eyes scanned the page like it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. Dante started to laugh, as did Angelo, as they both knew that I was right, and he was wrong.

For once.

"We're hangin' with the smart kids, we're hangin' with the smart kids," Dom and Max started to skip around, linked by the arms, singing in perfect correspondence to each other.

Sparda took they paper, and he too, frowned over it before shrugging and admitting defeat. Trish went to go do a load of washing in a huff. Nero retreated to his room, Dom in tow. Something about video games?

And Max, whom I did quite adore, sat across from me, and ask my master how the game was played, and if he could teach him the, and quoting the words of a five year old: "Rules and regulations of the game, so that I may evaluate them and find ways to talk my way into winning within the boundaries."

I couldn't help but smirk. My master was still frowning at the page, when he still quietly explained the game to Max.

Max held absolute attention on him.

"I have been trying to beat him at this game since I was three!" Dante told me haughtily, slapping my shoulder. "Good work, Rach!"

"Thank you." I said serenely, and drank some more of his coffee.

He slid a plate in front of me, with three of those giant pancake things. The sweet smelling liquid was more of a syrup, and I prodded it, frowning.

"What is this?" I asked him blankly.

"Those, are the best pancakes you'll ever eat." he said happily.

Angelo looked up with a syrup flavoured beard and nodded enthusiastically, inhaling the pancakes faster than Dante could cook them.

"But...What is it?" I asked, lifting an edge with a fork.

He gawked, and Angelo sweat dropped. Max rose an eyebrow in a fashion that my master soon followed.

"Have I not taught you about pancakes?" he quizzed.

"You've taught me a lot of things, but food isn't one of them." I informed him, still prodding the pancake like it could hurt me. "Did you know the humans eat bursting star babies now?"

_"'The humans'_?" Dante choked. "_'Star bursting babies'? _Verge, man, what is wrong with you?" he groaned, tugging his apron off and lifting Max with one hand to sit him on his knee.

Now I didn't notice Dante's physique before. He was always half naked, yes, I realized this now, but I wasn't particularly interested in what his body looked like. But my God, he had a fantastic body.

His pecs weren't as firm or taut as my master's, but his abs rivalled even my own. His entire body was rippling with muscle in places where my master was bony. Like his hips, for example. Dante's hips were shadowed in a muscular sort of way, where as my master's were just protruding.

Dante's arms were thicker than his too, and I put that down to the constant aiming of guns, where my master would've killed everything already.

All in all, Dante was stronger. Definitely stronger. And had an amazing physique.

But back to the up and coming world war seven. (If you include the demonic ones.)

"Nothing is wrong with me," my master said impassively, pulling my plate toward him to sniff the offered food. "I gave her a completely healthy upbringing, ignorant to calories and sugar induced highs -"

"Yeah, she gave me that speel." Dante said, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say he was angry. "But she's never had _pancakes_?"

"What are they, exactly?" I asked.

I was ignored. I had only ever been ignored as a child, so to me, this was the equivalent of being slapped in the face.

(Not that I couldn't deal with a slap in the face. I'd dealt with plenty. Still, it's the metaphor.)

"Pancakes are full of sugar." he dismissed, glaring at Dante, who then promptly slid the plate back over to me.

I opened my mouth to excuse myself when Dante growled over the top of it.

"She's fifteen years old-"

"I am aware of how old she is-"

"-and she hasn't ever had pancakes-?"

"-it's only a travesty to you, Dante, who is fuelled by carbs and caffeine-"

"-so are you, you were drinking coffee before I ever did-"

"-I was doing a lot of things before the thought even crossed your mind-"

"Ew." Max said, scrunching his face up.

And to that, I let out a laugh, because really, what else was I going to do? I hid the lower part of my face under my hands and giggled pointedly until the child in Max succumbed, and he laughed too.

Angelo chuckled, and soon after Dante was grinning, as per usual.

Max slid off his knee and clambered onto mine, and I held onto his waist as I so often watched Dante do. Max put his head on my collar bone and I laughed into his hair, smoothing it away from his forehead and smirking widely at his own giggles.

Master Vergil shifted uncomfortably, and stood.

"Fine. Have a taste of the pancakes then. I could care less."

"Clearly, you could." I pointed out with out thinking. "As you seem to be exceedingly aggravated."

Before I knew what had happened - which is a rarity, because not a lot escapes me - Max was ripped out of my grasp and I was picked up and thrown into a warm wall of muscle.

"Vergil!" barked Angelo from above me, his arms holding my severely dazed self up. Keep in mind, at this point I'd slept through the better part of a week and hadn't eaten since the cave.

"That's enough - just because she caught your ass out doesn't mean you can manhandle her -"

"I can do whatever I want to her." my master seethed through gritted teeth. "She's mine."

"Where's Max?" I asked weakly.

Dante was glaring holes into the back of my master's head, and holding an absolutely terrified Max. I would too, if I was as close to a glare like that.

"Oh." I said.

"She's not completely unbreakable, Vergil." Angelo chided.

I weighed the chances of his survival for trying to school my master and figured it was slim to none.

"I know that." he managed to grind out. "After pulling her from the grips of death, of course I know that."

"Do you?" Angelo countered, easing me into Sparda's arms - when the hell did he get there? - and prowling a little a ways from me. They were going to fight, and it was all because I had opened my mouth in a retort.

I made the connection between my murder and the up and coming war, and decided I had better stick to as little speech as possible, in future.

Sparda watched them with indifference, as I struggled and protested and tried to get somebody's attention.

Now, before I tell you the next part, there is something I have to mention. As I did tell you, I haven't been ignored since I was a child. And being ignored made me feel like one. Not only that, but I was being held against the very firm chest of the father of my father figure - which practically made him my grandfather, in my eyes. When I was around Max, I felt like a child. The sort of child I had never been allowed to show.

So, all these facts combined, I threw a tantrum.

"What the hell is wrong with you males?!" I yelled, then broke out of Sparda's grip. I turned on him and pushed him away for good measure, just to get my point through.

"You," I bellowed, stabbing a finger at Angelo, "have no logical rights or responsibilities to me, you have nothing on me except for housing me for however long it was. I thank you for that, but you have nothing that says I should be treated otherwise!"

Then I turned on Sparda.

"You have no right to restrain me, shush me, quiet me down when you know full well what I would be preventing if you did something other then let the egotistical, testosterone driven males of the house go head to head with each other! Whether you wanted something to watch, to entertain you, I don't know, and I don't care, but I am not letting Dante's house and home be destroyed over something as petty as this!"

Dante let out a confirming: "Yeah!"

Then I turned on him.

"And you! You waltz around and pick fights for no other reason then to fight! You are so freaking predictable! And this stupidity about food - it's food, for crying out loud. It does the same thing as any other food - it goes in, and it comes out, you get the picture? I don't care for flavours, trust me, there are no flavours how I was brought up."

Then I turned on my master, and pointed at him, but the words wouldn't come. I wanted to yell at him, I truly did. But his calmed and impassive face told me too many things. I read that, in saying what I had said, I had let a female, emotional response slip, and that was something he constantly taught me to hold in.

I wanted to yell at him and demand that he take me home, where I could see Mira, and give her a hug, and tell her that she did so much for us and thank her. I wanted to yell at him and tell him that I freaking hated him for pushing me away. And being so cold. And not ever showing me the affection that Dante did. Or ever talking to me, _just talking to me_, like Dante did.

Everything was a lesson, with my master, other then to taunt each other when we fought, there was _no talking_.

I jabbed my finger at him again, and the words I wanted to yell came out as a shaky sigh.

"Don't even get me started on you." I said lowly, dropping my hand. "You...You..."

_You pushed me away. You hurt me on purpose. Why can't you be a little more like Dante?_

I sighed, then turned, and slammed the door on my way out.

********

**Well, a little while ago, **.Kid **reviewed and said something about wanting to know more about one of the stories, and I've been trying to work it in, so I thought this was a good place to start... **

Trish and Eva were waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. I didn't cry, even if they said it was okay to.

Dom and Max stayed in the room with us, after promising their mother and grandmother that they wouldn't tell any of the boys what was said in that room.

Max was just holding my hand. Dom was rubbing my shoulder. Eva had made tea, and told me that not a single word passed between the four men downstairs. They all looked up when she walked in, all looking hopeful, but when she shook her head they looked down again.

Apparently, my master was inspecting the newspaper still, and that made me want to _try _to smile.

Eva made wondrous tea and sandwiches (I ate them out of two bags of bread and various fillings), and later rather then sooner, I was telling them stories about how I grew up. I thought they were all funny stories, but they looked mortified.

Eva especially.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?" she asked quietly, her eyes slightly too wide for her face. It struck me then the resemblance between the two, and I wondered if everyone in this house was a twin but me and Nero.

"There was this one time, just before I was pulled out of school to be home schooled, there was this boy, and his name was Manuel El'Doro, right? This really sweet and quiet kid who was in my class. We were something like friends, I think, for a little while, and then when Valentines day came around, he sent me a letter, asking me to be his Valentine. I thought I'd scare him off with the origin of the day... you know, all the young and pretty girls would put their names into a box, and men would pull them out and have anonymous se--"

Trish shook her head and I altered the story for the boy's sake. I wasn't going to drop the 'sex' bomb on them yet. God knows what they'd be capable of then.

In particular, Dom.

"They'd...uh...have...sleepovers...with the girls... but anyway, the point is, I forgot a part of the story and he corrected me on it. I was astounded he knew, and he just shied away from my questions with this tiny little: _I like to rrrread_." I rolled the 'r' like he did, and Dom giggled a little.

"So I gave him our house phone number, because his birthday was coming up later that week and he said I was invited. I'd never been invited to a birthday party before. So I asked Mira what they were like - Mira, our housekeeper - and she said that they were wonderful. With games and lollies and presents. If I was lucky, I'd even get a party bag to take home with me. He had to call to give me the details of the party, his address and the like. I was working up to explaining the situation to master Vergil before he called, but alas, fate is cruel, and he called as I opened my mouth to explain."

Eva was smiling lightly before, but then she started to frown, as did Trish.

"It didn't end well. I don't think anybody ever had our telephone number at that stage, so of course, master Vergil was highly suspicious. When he said he'd called for me it went even worse. It was like I'd gone and had se--... Slept over his house without asking. He hung up halfway through Manuel's rehearsed speech, and then grabbed my hand and bent my fingers back, demanding why I'd give a stranger our home phone number. I explained that I knew him, and that I was going to tell him that he'd invited me to a birthday party, but he just kept bending them back... I was out of school the next day, and Manuel never called again. Well, he might've, because master Vergil pulled the phone from the socket and we still haven't got another one put in, so..."

"That's your experience with the other gender?" Trish asked, dumbfounded. "How old were you?"

"Uh...It was grade four... I was eight."

Eva and Trish shared looks.

Dom and Max started bickering about something I didn't quite catch – because I was too invested in my own thoughts.

What hadn't he taught me? I knew the reproductive system, we studied it, not long after Manuel called. All about sex and sperm and eggs and stuff like that. He shifted uncomfortably then left the period talk to Mira.

Yes. My master Vergil stood and took to battles of epic proportions by himself, he tried to take over the world, he'd glared hell down into a simpering mess, but he couldn't explain "Aunt Flo".

It was laughable, really.

"Boys," Trish said slowly, putting her hands on the twin's shoulders. "Why don't you go and play with uncle Nero, hmm?"

"Because he killed Rachel!" Dom exploded, disgusted at the suggestion. "Why is he even still living here?"

"Because." Trish said sternly. "He saved your father's life. And he saved my life, and he saved Lady's life twice. What would you do without your Aunty Lady?"

"Fail life?" Max guessed.

Dom heaved a big sigh and they both tromped down the hall and I heard Nero's music getting louder, indicating the opening of his door. They didn't come back, so I assumed that Nero had taken them in to play Tekken or Final Fantasy or whatever Nero played these days.

"Rachel." Trish sighed, folding her arms across her chest. "How much do you know about boys?"

"I know that you have sex with them to have babies and create more humans." I told them matter-of-factly.

Eva cringed.

"Darling, they're much more than that." she said softly.

"Yes, I know." I said with a roll of my eyes. "We fight them and train against them to better our skills and such."

They shared that look again. That : 'what on Earth has he been teaching her?' look.

"That's not all…" Trish said again, a little abashed – which struck me as odd, because usually Trish was tough and motherly and strict. Or yelling, either way.

"We… Use them to open pickle jars?" I guessed.

Eva looked mortified, and hid her eyes, whilst Trish let out a pained groan.

"What?" I asked. "What else do you want a male for?"

"Love." Eva said, letting her hand fall to her chest. "Males are for loving – all males need somebody, just to hold and to kiss and to love."

I knew the look on my face was a bit like: 0.o

"But love complicates things." I said airily. "And besides, who needs to love a man, when they can die, or back stab you?"

They shared that look again. I got to my feet, frustrated.

"What has this got to do with anything?" I asked. "So I've been ignorant to the male gender, so what? I don't need a boyfriend, or a husband, heaven forbid. And my master doesn't have anybody to hold, and he's fine."

Trish slid her legs over the edge of the bed purely to hold her head in her hands. Her cleavage was falling out, and Eva not only noticed, but blushed at it.

"He's fine." I repeated.

"He's not." Trish said, sitting up. Eva sighed.

"Vergil has always been a slightly paranoid one-"

That almost made my eyebrows shoot off my face, they flew up so fast-

"- he believes that true love is the rarest thing in the world to find. I don't know how he could have ever been looking if he was taking care of you. Rachel, there are things about boys that girls need. Like… Protection." She said. "When you're scared, and he's the one you run to."

"I can protect myself." I answered automatically. "And I fear nothing."

"Uh… Company."

"I can keep myself company."

"What about children? What if you want children?"

"I don't want children. And if I do, I'll adopt. There's enough lonesome children in there as it is, why would I breed more into the world?"

Trish shook her head.

"What about Romeo and Juliet?" Eva asked. "You've told me you studied it."

"To better understand love between two people that aren't related." I said, furrowing my brow. "But in all honesty, I don't understand how they fell in love so rapidly. I think it was purely for the looks."

Trish got up, looking angry. I glared at the side of her head.

"What?" she snapped.

"What yourself." I replied dangerously. "Seriously, just because I don't flaunt my body, or particularly want anybody to protect me when I can do it myself, why does that make you mad?"

"Because it's sad, that's why," she snapped again. "You're fifteen years old and you've never been kissed."

"Big deal." I snorted. "I have all the time in the world."

"But how can you love someone if you don't believe in love at first sight?" she countered.

"Why is it I need to love anybody?" I growled. "I don't want to love anybody, plain and simple. They weasel under your skin and they twist your heart around."

"Not everybody does that." Trish growled herself, and I was surprised to hear it was a proper demonic growl. "Dante doesn't do that to me."

"But you do it to him."

Eva gasped, her hands flying over her mouth.

"You do it all the time." I continued, not trying to hurt her, just trying to explain. "It's like you can't wait just to scream at him, Trish! You do nothing but yell and stomp your feet with him! And yet you 'love' him!"

"I do." She whispered, though her voice was flaming with fury. "I do love him. With all my heart. But you wouldn't understand. You don't have a heart. That's what we're trying to say, with all of this boyfriend talk. He may have brought you up to _survive_ – but you surviving by yourself is nothing. You have to have somebody to love, otherwise you have nothing to survive _for_."

I blinked, confused.

"But I have him." I said. "I have him to survive for, isn't that enough?"

"No." Trish dismissed, and her voice was still angry, but she didn't necessarily sound angry at me again.

I couldn't understand. So I just frowned and walked away.

They didn't stop me. They knew I was processing, or trying to understand, as it was.

I couldn't go downstairs. I didn't want to particularly see or talk to any one. I didn't want to be seen, either. So I made my way down the hall, past my vacant room, past Nero's room, followed only by the sound of 'pew, pew', 'Take that, Darth Vader!', 'Obi Wan just died again!' and 'Noice shootin', guys.'

I eased the window up, and threw a leg out of it, curling my foot around a drain pipe and swinging out to grab it with one arm, while I closed the window with the other. I closed it only enough so that I could open it with my little finger, so that the wind wouldn't bother anyone and they wouldn't think to look for me here.

I climbed up the drain pipe with no difficulties at all. By now, the sky was turning purple, and the added light from the flickering '_Devil May Cry'_ sign was just for added affect.

I took in a deep breath and just _was_. I was _being_. Alive, healthy, full.

But very confused.

I couldn't understand what the girls where trying to teach me, or why they where trying to teach me it. Was it that necessary, they'd moved the boys away to explain? That they took me on my own?

I had no idea.

I didn't have time to figure it out before I was bowled over and sat atop of.

I growled.

"God damnit Nero, do you make it a habit to sit on top of me?"

He blinked and scrambled off, muttering apologies. He made like he was going to jump off the roof but I caught his jacket and tugged him down.

He landed hard on his ass, and gave me a typical Nero glare. I gave one of my own, shimmying to sit with my legs over the edge of the roof.

"What do you want?" he asked weakly.

"Do you still want to die?" I asked abruptly, looking over the city's rapidly appearing lights.

"…What the hell kind of question is that?"

"I'll take that as a no." I murmured. My hands were folded in my lap, but as I looked over at him, he seemed tense.

"Relax." I demanded. "I'm not going to do anything."

He sighed and shifted his legs over the edge too, leaning back on his elbows.

"You aren't relaxed." I pointed out.

"Every time I try, I remember the look on Vergil's face when he saw you. I feel sick to my stomach when I remember it. I never felt so horrible." He mumbled.

"Can…Can I ask you something?" I asked quietly, fixing my eyes on a particular star in the sky. "Something you have to answer, honestly?"

I heard him gulp. "I can try."

"When…When Kyrie died," I said, and from the corner of my eye saw him stiffen. "Did you want to die too?"

"No," he said through gritted teeth. "I didn't. I wanted to kill something."

I cocked an eyebrow and looked over at him. He sat up and put his elbows to his knees, resting his forehead on his knuckles.

"Did you love her?"

"I still love her."

I paused… Then asked the question I feared asking the most. Why I should ask him was far and beyond any logical sense, at the time, but I know that in my subconscious, it made all the sense in the world. He had loved, and she had died. He would know the answer to the following question better than anyone.

"Do you think you need someone to live for?"

He turned his head, thought still left it resting on his knuckles.

"Say again?" he said, unsure if I'd spoken or not.

"Do you believe…with all the people aimlessly wondering around the world…That we need that one special…Someone to live for?" I repeated, uneasy.

He clenched his jaw, and for a moment, I could've sworn he was going to attack, but he didn't. Instead, he just sighed, and closed his eyes for a little while.

"Of course you need someone to live for." He said softly, his voice strong and sad, and every bit as masculine as I once thought him to be. "It's the person you wake up for, go to sleep to dream about, breathe for. They're the person you would die for, live and lie for, the person your heart aches for."

I blinked.

"You sound like you've rehearsed that."

"I think they're like, a combination of lyrics from somewhere." He chuckled, but it was somehow off beat.

"Nero, what is wrong with you?" I asked him, poking him in the shoulder roughly. "You haven't had one shot at me since I woke up."

"Because I feel bad."

"What the hell?" I twisted on my bum so that I was facing him, and kicked him in the thigh.

He just looked severely confused.

"What did I do-?" he asked blankly. "I thought we were having a nice little chat-?"

"But you're being a girl." I said with another kick. "Man up, you're _annoying_ me."

"Hey! Ow!" He flinched as with every stomp of my foot on his thigh, he came closer and closer to falling off the double story shop. "Would you cut it out?"

"'_Would you cut it out? Would you cut it out?_'" I sang, then kicked him again, particularly hard. "Make me."

Finally, he grabbed my foot, and threw it up so hard I rolled backward. I stood up, dusting off my pants, giving him a satisfied smirk.

"There, are you happy now?" He snapped, folding his arms over his chest in a clear sign he wasn't going to follow through with an attack like I wanted him to.

"Nero, you are such a pansy." I snorted, pushing him in the shoulder again.

"I am not a pansy." He sulked, once again taking the torment.

"Nero, you're not just a pansy, you're a baby pansy too."

"I am not a baby. Or a pansy. Or a baby pansy, whatever." He pushed my hand away, so I hit him hard in the shoulder.

He just huffed, and got up, walking away to an obvious ladder I should've really thought to look for.

"Nero, you're a pansy, a baby, and a girl."

"I am not." He mumbled, his hands curling into fists.

"You're a girl baby pansy, and you're pink!" I declared, and apparently, being called pink was something Nero could not just ignore, because he turned around wearing a furious frown, and his arm started to glow. He raised his fist like he wanted to hit me, then put it down again, almost having to use the other hand to force it to his thigh.

I just smirked.

"You know, for a smart person, not only are you being dumb, but you are not making any sense." He growled demonically.

My smirk widened. "The point of this exercise is for you to get over whatever little pansy girl feelings you have, and get back to the normal old Nero I love to loathe."

His frown turned into that familiar scowl. I let out a laugh.

"That's better."

He looked confused, then huffed his hair out of his face.

"Whatever, little midget bitch." He mumbled.

"Anytime, Nero dear."

He opened his mouth to speak, and for a split second, I thought the resounding 'KA-BOOM!' that shook the roof beneath my feet came from him.

But when a bright white light shot from behind my feet, sending me flying into the air, I had the notion it wasn't Nero. He grabbed my ankle as I flew over his head, and dragged me down to the roof again.

"What the hell-?" I started, but I couldn't even hear my own voice. The column of blinding white light was making a hissing noise as it flew upwards into the air, and it was drowning out all other sounds.

Nero pinched my arm, and I turned to hurt him back, but he was mouthing something.

'Inside'.

We found a window and didn't even bother to open it. He swung down first and kicked it open. I did the same, with him 'helping' me through the jagged shards.

I slapped his hands away with a scowl, and he gave me one back, catching my arm and dragging me downstairs. I half wanted to check the kids were alright in his room, but they were on the other side of the light column, and there was clearly no way to get through.

This thing, started from underneath Devil May Cry and shot through the entire building. As Nero and I clambered down the stairs, where I had half a notion that master Vergil and Dante finally started to fight – we found something much, much worse.

Welcome to world war seven.


	21. World War Seven

Moiranna is the world's best Beta.

TehOdd1 xoox

* * *

**Recap:**

This thing, started from underneath Devil May Cry and shot through the entire building. As Nero and I clambered down the stairs, where I had half a notion that master Vergil and Dante finally started to fight – we found something much, much worse.

Welcome to world war seven.

* * *

Everyone was fighting something.

Eva was sending giant blue orbs – created by her hands, no less – at a giant, fire demon at least three times her width and height. She did it so calmly, it no longer bothered me where my master had gotten it from. She spun, and delivered a kick into one particularly small demon, her hair fanning around her like a golden wave.

The tiny demon flew through the air, and landed on the light – where it sizzled, and promptly turned into a skeleton.

Sparda and Angelo both had taken to fighting the twin end of a snake – except instead of a tail, it bore two huge torsos that wielded axes. The heads on these things where huge, and they had horns that shot something looking like icicles.

I watched Sparda deflect one attack by one of their axes, and as the blade sunk into the floor, it spread ice in an arc three meters across, turning one of Dante's tables into an ice cube.

Angelo jumped to avoid being touched by it, landing on the table, which shattered under his weight. But he had enough time to gather his bearings and launch an attack, bare handed, on the thing. He caught it around the neck, and started to squeeze.

I shuddered.

Nero tugged me out of the way as a stray bolt of lighting blew up the spot I was standing in.

He had me pressed against a wall, looking at Trish in awe, as she battled a demon that looked like a minotaur. It had the body of a regular sized horse, with the torso of a regular (though, rather muscular) human, but two extra pairs of arms. Its horns shot glowing, green acid.

She let loose another lightning bolt at it, that literally blew one of his arms into bits. The minotaur threw his head back – he must've been roaring, because I still couldn't hear him – and let fly with a kick from one of his front hooves.

I saw it make contact, but then it was my turn to push Nero and trip him purposely so that we avoided a scorpion's tail… that Dante had somehow lassoed and was riding, like a bucking bull.

He mouthed "YEE-HAAW!", waving some random cowboy hat around, then dug his heels into it's throat and it ran through the shop's front wall, and onto the street.

The whole building shook from the impact, the combined pressure from whatever the column of light was making the foundations weak.

I rolled myself up and ran at top speed, running vertically on a wall to deliver a head shot kick to the remaining torso and now headless thing that almost attacked Max.

Max didn't hear it – of course he didn't, no one could hear anything – but Dom saw it, and gaped at me as I grabbed the axe firmly, and struck down onto the conjoining tail, severing it from the snake.

The snake turned around to bite me, it's mouth the size of a school bus, but both me and Sparda were ready. He pointed his sword at it, and I my axe. It waited, hesitating, before Sparda gave me a leg up and threw me at the snake, slicing down into it's skull.

Sparda was a split second behind me, driving his sword into it's throat.

It still didn't die.

I caught a grip around it's chin with my knees, and hacked into a major artery that should have killed it, if not rendered it helpless, immediately, whilst Sparda kept at keeping it's attention.

My knee slipped, and almost got bitten by the snake – but I locked my knee straight, keeping it's mouth open.

So now picture this – I was upside down, wrestling my leg around in the mouth of a huge, demonic snake, hacking into it's artery with everything I had. My hair has masses of bright orange goo in it, and my locked knee was starting to slip against the saliva of the thing.

I realized that in hacking into said demon with an axe made of ice I was purely freezing the wound closed, and rolled my eyes, catching Sparda's eye and throwing him the sword.

He caught it, buried it in the snake, then through the other one up to me.

This sword was huge.

It outweighed me, an I was all muscle, so go figure how much it weighed.

I let a silent scream of frustration go, then dug the sword into the snake's jugular, getting doused in orange blood.

It collapsed, and I slipped, it's teeth clamping shut on my leg.

I screamed, and Sparda wrenched the teeth open for me, helping me up. I pointed to the boys – who were shooting and slicing back to back, in perfect sync – and he nodded, jumping over an attacking slug the size of a horse, (with teeth and spikes in place of slime), and stood me in the middle of the fight.

I handed him his sword, and he gave me another, thankfully lighter one, fashioned a lot like Yamato.

Only this one was purple in colour, all over. I instantly took to battle again, using my throbbing leg as a means to spin on.

Max was protecting his brother when a large tentacle, protruding from the column, grabbed his ankle. I ran – as fast as I could, with a snake bitten leg and unfamiliar sword – and sliced it off of him. The blood burned through the floor, and he pushed it off shakily.

I turned to Dom, helping Max up with a free hand, and was mortified when another tentacle had him suspended in mid air by his ankle.

I growled, and me and Max both sliced at it, our swords connecting in the middle of the thick and vibrating tentacle.

I caught Dom and collapsed, my sore leg not helping.

"Thanks!" Dom said, his voice shaky.

I blinked. "I can hear you!" I exclaimed.

"I can hear you!" he repeated stupidly, then the sounds we needed to fight with were amplified to unbearable.

The 'CRACK!' sounds from Trish's lightning. The 'BANG!' sounds from Dante's bullets. The growls, and screams of frustration and success were suddenly ringing in my ears.

Dom and Max both cowered, and I rolled onto my back, my whole head disorientated. Everything was shaking, and my ear drums were banging, almost popping. Everyone around us dropped, except for the tentacles. The demons all made a break for it, outside.

Dom was snatched up, and even though I knew it was a mistake, I yelled: "DOMINICK!" and sliced at the tentacle from my place on the floor, but I too, was picked up and flung into a warm wall of meat I knew was Angelo: he caught me, tears pouring from his eyes, squinting at the light.

That's when I noticed, the light was getting brighter, and the sounds where going back to normal.

Dante was rolling around on the floor, pummelling absolutely nothing into bits and pieces, shouting swears and words that melted into one another.

Sparda was just staring at a dead demon, a blank look on his face, his sword pointed at it like he'd just killed a small puppy.

Trish was sobbing, rocking back and forth, no weapons any where near her, the tips of her hair crackling on the odd occasion.

Nero was screaming so hard blood was flying out of his mouth, and when he stopped to breathe, he tore at his chest with his claw.

Dom and Max were holding each other, cowering crying into the other's shoulder.

I couldn't see my master.

I locked eyes with Eva.

"What's happening?" I yelled, struggling against the grip Angelo exerted. My leg throbbed, and I felt tears of my own pain spring into my eyes.

"We're humans!" She yelled in return, making her way over to me. "They're demons, they're seeing things!"

"What is it? A spell?"

"Yes, I think so." She said shakily, looking around. "I'm a witch, but I'm a human made witch, and you're just as human as I." she explained hurriedly. "But everyone else in this room has demon in them. I know magics, but this…" she shook her head and looked at me.

"This is something else. This is…_Power_."

Angelo was muttering something into my hair, stroking it on my sides.

"I love you," he whispered. "I love you so much, come away with me. Don't leave me."

Eva froze. "They're…Seeing…the only thing that could ever…Hurt them…" she whispered, then spun to look on as her husband fell to his knees.

"What have I done?" he asked nobody. "Eva, my Eva… My sons… My brother… Dead… it's all my fault."

He then proceeded to attempt to kill himself, if not for Eva, grabbing his face and zapping him into reality.

"Sparda, get up, come on!" she said, pulling him to his feet. "I need you!"

"I love you." Angelo said into my ear again.

"That's nice." I told him, patting his head.

He still wouldn't let go of me, no matter how I struggled.

"Don't leave me, please…" he moaned. "I'll be better, I love you more… Let me love you, don't leave me again…"

"I won't, just let go," I tried.

His arms tightened, and I couldn't breathe. He literally squashed the air right out of my lungs.

"I can't let you go." He said fiercely, still stroking my orange blood soaked hair. "I love you."

I heard a raw voice bellow: "RACHEL, INTEGRA! NO!"

Before Sparda flew in the air and into Angelo, the impact enough to knock the air out of him and into me.

He let go, and I scrambled away, pulling myself up on a bit of frozen desk and leaning my now useless leg against in effort to stop the pain.

I saw my master and Eva, coming around the still glowing column of light.

He saw me and sprinted, leaving his mother in his wake, jumping over the giant dead snake and sliding under a the body of a minotaur that was stabbed through the stomach and left in midair, on the blade itself.

He came over to me and wrapped me up fiercely in his arms, picking me off the floor with the momentum.

His heart was beating so hard I felt it in his chest, and in his pulse, vibrating through his arms.

I wrapped my own around him, and buried my face into his shoulder, tears leaping into my eyes.

"What is it?" I asked him urgently. "What did you see?"

"I…I saw…" He swallowed and stroked my hair.

"I have you." Was all he said. "I'm not letting you go. Not letting you out of my sight."

"More so than usual?" I aimed for joking but he pulled me away, one eye twitching.

He opened his mouth to speak, but gave up, and hugged me tightly again.

I'd never been hugged by him before. It was far too intimate, for him. The most I got was a back pat, or a scruffing of the hair, or something to that general effect. Anything I could shrug off or slap away, I noticed briefly.

He carried me, still hugging, to the couch. He kicked it right side up and sat me down on it gently, eyes looking over the two large holes in my leg.

"It was dead before it bit you." He murmured, fingers prodding.

"It was a mistake on my part." I said, a little breathlessly.

"That snake has violent venom that attaches itself to the blood cells. You would've been in horrible pain." He winced, like the thought actually hurt him. He looked up, caught my eyes, and hugged me again.

He picked me up that way, and carefully picked up my legs, carrying me bridal style. Though instead of one arm around him, I had both, because as I went to let go he made the saddest sound in his throat. If I didn't know him like I know him, I would've thought it to sound like a choked sob.

He carried me over to where Eva was having a hard time waking Dante up.

"Dante, you dolt." He said shakily. "Take your medicine." And promptly kicked him onto his back, where Eva caught his head and zapped him back.

Whilst Dante's pummelling of the floor ceased, master Vergil sat us down.

Dante was panting, the sound painful – I hated seeing him like that. He must've been crying, because the first thing he said was: "I'm not crying." and wiped his face like mad.

Max and Dom were crying into their mother's leg, but soon threw themselves onto their father, who accepted the hugs then stood to give Trish a particularly long, passionate kiss.

I made an 'ew' face, and my master chuckled at it flicking the tip of my nose with his forefinger.

I blushed, caught out making three year old faces. He just gave me a rare smile, and hugged me again.

I touched his hair, and patted his shoulder, making 'shh' noises. It wasn't like me, and it wasn't like him, but for a moment, the feelings there were raw.

He was shaking, and I soon took to it too, so worried about what he had seen that made him so…weak.

Eva went over to Angelo, who was still on the floor, squeezing Sparda, and was shooed away.

"No, I love her, I do, I do, I'll love her better, I'd give her anything, I'd give her my life, please, let me love her…"

"Angelo, please." Eva said, as Sparda turned a pretty shade of purple. "Just hold still."

"I love you." He said madly. "I love you I love you love you. Why don't you love me? Eva, please, love me. Don't leave me, I love you so much."

I turned around to look, shocked, as Sparda's face turned more red than purple, and he flexed his arms, throwing his brother off.

He growled, and my master Vergil swept me up and away, half hiding me behind him as Angelo saw Eva in his magic induced haze and went for her with open arms.

Sparda punched him in the face. Just one punch. And he flew through the wall, and kept going. I didn't hear him stop.

"Holy shit." Nero said, from somewhere to my right.

Everything went completely silent, with all eyes on Sparda, and Sparda's eyes on the place where his brother had flown through the wall.

Then Sparda said a single word that made me drop my jaw.

"Slut."

I blinked, and master Vergil had moved to stand near Dante, who passed his kids to Trish. I was placed down as gently as I'm sure he could manage, and given a kiss on the forehead.

I blinked up at him, but he wasn't looking at me.

"You take dad." He said to Dante quietly.

"No way." Dante shot back. "_You_ take dad."

"_You_ take dad."

"Are you _insane_?"

"Are you _scared,_ Dante?"

"_Hell yes_."

"Fine. _I'll_ take dad."

"Good."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Who am I taking?" Nero asked, stepping over me.

"You can help Vergil."

"I don't need _his_ help." Snapped the eldest brother.

"Fine. You take my mum, just hold her back, and move, god damnit. This is going to be some hell of a family get together."

"None of this family is 'getting together'." My master ground through gritted teeth. And though I wasn't sure what that could possibly imply, I had a feeling it had something to do with Eva and Angelo.

With out proper warning, they jumped up, with master Vergil wrapping his arms around his father's left and locking his hands around his waist, bracing himself in one of the strongest stances known to man. Dante mirrored his movements, taking the other arm and locking his own around his father's stomach.

Nero took to their mother just as she went to attack (murder) Sparda. He didn't move, and neither did my master Vergil, or Dante, as Nero had picked her up, cackling magic's and all, and hefted her away, screaming in Latin at him.

I could translate. But I'm not going to. A lady shouldn't say such things.

Max crawled into my lap, and I held his head close to my chest, blocking his ears as Trish did the same for Dominick.

Sparda just snapped, all of a sudden, and thank God for Nero hauling their mother away, rough though he was, because Sparda started to fight against his sons furiously, and he was already winning.

I was scared of Sparda for those few moments. I hid Max's eyes away from his seething grandfather, then hid my own.

Trish was whispering to Dom, who was sobbing into her shoulder, as the parents of the most infamous half bloods growled and spat and went completely insane at each other.

"You knew he loved you, didn't you?!"

"Of course I did, but you did too!"

"He's my brother, my twin brother, I know everything about him!"

"So what's wrong with me knowing?!"

"YOU DIDN'T TELL ME YOU KNEW!"

"NEITHER DID YOU!" Eva screamed back, ripping one arm free and aiming it at him. Nero knocked her off balance as a giant sword dropped out of the roof and very narrowly missed the three.

Eva sent Nero flying back with one curse, as Dante let go of his father's arm to wrap his mother in one of his own and bawl her to the floor.

Sparda leaped, and narrowly missed her. My master Vergil was hit, and sent head first into a brick wall, a cloud of dust flying up in his wake.

I got to my feet, glaring.

"Stay back, Rachel!" Dante yelled, rolling his mother out of the way as a sword sliced down at them.

I handed Max to Trish.

"What are you doing?" she asked, mortified as I began to limp away. "Rachel, don't!"

Max cried out my name as I took a running jump – and three inches away from kicking Sparda in the face he hit me with a back hand that would've thrown me after Angelo, if I didn't immediately held on.

He looked at me like: "Seriously, this is it?" and tried to shake me off, but I remained stubborn and held on, digging my nails into his forearm so hard it bled.

Have you ever made a Sparda bleed? No? It's not easy. I was astounded all he did was keep shaking.

Dante tried to hold his arm, but was pushed away, into the wall above where his brother had landed.

I let go, swung down, and used the power from his shaking to propel him over my head and into the floor.

He went half way through, then got stuck.

I retired, holding my bloody leg up to my chest, hissing at the pain.

My master Vergil pushed Dante off of him, dusted himself off, then spotted me and came to my side.

"Telling you not to move wouldn't have done anything, would it?" he asked, helping me to my feet.

"Not a thing." I replied, squeezing my eyes shut.

Eva saw Sparda's ass and legs wiggling from the floor and started laughing, followed by Sparda's own pelts of chuckles like him being half in and half out of the floor after they tried to kill each other was hilarious.

She pried him from the floor, but gave him a stern look.

"I am not a slut. I just didn't want you to go off and kill him. He's your brother."

"I know."

"And you would've tried to kill him."

"I know."

"And I love you so much."

"I know."

She smiled her angelic smile, and helped him up.

Then all hell really broke loose, and Trish screamed her head off.

"DOM! DOM! MAX, MY BABIES!"

Max stabbed the tentacle around his waist and managed to scamper over to my side of the column before another one ensnared his thigh.

Dom was shooting at it, and Dante had grabbed onto it and tugged, to no avail.

"DOMINICK!" he bellowed.

Eva went to help them, as did Sparda, but both were taken by tentacles of their own and… _absorbed_…into the column.

"Dante!" she yelled, going to zap away the tentacle. Dante rolled away accordingly, but as she shot a perfectly aimed shot at the base of the thing, it moved Dom in it's way, and he was struck instead, his tiny body jerking until he just sagged into stillness.

I let a sob like gasp go.

Nero's eyes were wide.

I heard Sparda bellowing through the column, before it started to shudder, and moved down, into the floor.

He was slid down it, Eva in tow. The entire building quaked.

I pushed away from my master and sliced at the tentacle holding Max captive.

He screamed my name, and I said: "I'm coming!"

Dante tried to punch the column, but it sent him back. He dug his heels in and did it again. And again.

Soon, his hands were cooked, raw, and bleeding, his upper lip drawn into a feral snarl.

"DOMINICK!" He bellowed. "DOMINICK!"

We all heard him sob and then a muffled: "Dad!" before his shadow went down to. A piece of plaster fell next to Trish, and she leapt forward, zapping the column with tears pouring down her face.

"NO, NO, NO!"

I sliced another tentacle, before my master grabbed my arm.

"We have to leave – the place is falling apart."

"No, I can still save him!" I yelled, pushing him back.

I cut another tentacle, then another, and sliced into another, fighting as fast as I could. But it was as if the column knew what made me weak – and my master was snatched up.

I tried to get him down, and he was slammed into a wall, knocking a chunk of foundations along with it. Dante ran over and slid along the floor to grab Max, but missed, and was whipped away by another tentacle.

Max was being dragged into the light.

I made my decision.

I jumped over Dante, throwing my sword to the side, and grabbed Max's biceps, holding on for dear life.

"I got you!" I yelled, and he tried to climb back up onto me, but his feet were in the column and weren't letting go.

Everyone was fighting the tentacles – a piece of rubble made a huge bang and Trish screamed at the thing to let her babies go.

"I'm not letting go." I told Max breathlessly, and he nodded, tears pouring from his ice-like eyes. "I've got you, Max, I've got you."

"Rachel!" Master Vergil bellowed.

Somehow, with the whole building falling around me, I didn't care. I didn't care about anything, except the fact that a child was in danger, and I was the one protecting him.

Dante seized my hips and pulled me back with a grunt, and the light let him go for just a moment before Dante was whipped back by another tentacle.

It tried to pull me away, but it only tugged Max away too. So I was left to pull him out myself.

I tried to get onto my bum so I could dig my heels in and pull him back, but it chose the precise moment to tug so that he was half in, and half out of, the light beam.

I growled and tried to shimmy back on my stomach, but it wasn't working.

Nero – and I knew it was Nero, kicked a chunk of falling plaster away from my head, and tried to grab me, but I shouted: "No, you get rid of the debris!"

He did it without question.

I saw the house shudder and heave, and fall to a diagonal.

Max screamed as the light beam was pulling him down, and I, pulling him up, the house collapsing, his mother screaming, his father growling so loudly that it was almost in my ears…

When I saw it.

Him. The thing in the middle of the light.

He was beautiful. My age. Black hair, white eyes.

He looked surprised that I had seen him.

I was surprised I had seen him.

He didn't have tentacles, just held up his hand, and they stopped fighting.

There was a moment where he reached out of the beam, and the house froze halfway through falling. Everyone, except me, Max, and Nero, made no move, or one sound.

He touched my cheek with the tips of his fingers, so gently, my eyes half closed and I leaned into it, my grip on Max slackening.

"Such strength…" the boy said, his voice echoing.

"Let him go." I whispered.

"I can't." he replied airily, then: "Who are you?"

"Rachel." I replied, then closed my eyes tightly and pulled Max with all my strength. I managed to get him all the way out, too- and time continued to move, the shop collapsing, Trish screaming, Dante shooting.

"Max-!" I gasped, because he was free, and I had saved him –

"Rachel!" he said, eyes wide.

Then the house fully closed in, and Nero knocked me to the floor, me pulling Max to my chest to cover him with my body, as Nero had done to me.

When all was quiet, I opened my eyes and hugged Max like I thought he was dead. He stirred, then hugged me too, sobbing into my shoulder.

Nero was unconscious, a little blood leaking from his forehead.

The sun was high in the sky- and the air smelt fresh. It was the next day. I'd slept under rubble with an unconscious half demon on top of me.

The light had disappeared, and I sat up, pushing a large wooden beam away from Nero's skull to conclude that he was fine. It had just bumped him.

"Dante?" I called, my voice croaking. "Master Vergil?"

"Rachel-" Trish gasped, zapping a large piece of plaster away from both her and Dante. "Where's Max?!" she shrieked.

Dante got to his feet and saw Max, his face relieved, but still – depressed.

"Oh God," he said, and helped his wife up. They began to limp as quickly as they could towards us.

My master Vergil knelt at my side, his hand on Max's shoulder. He helped me up, and I leaned against him fully, unable to walk at all with the wound on my thigh. We approached the middle, ready to check and fawn over Max, when a thinner beam of light shot up, and the boy snatched Max away with his bare hands.

"No, you leave him alone!" I yelled, diving in after him.

I managed to grab a hand – but it wasn't Max's, it was the boy's – and he leaned up, out of the light, to kiss me firmly on the lips.

I blinked stupidly, but he pulled me closer with an arm around the back of my neck.

His lips were soft – and so was the rest of him, actually – and he pulled away, giving me a lighter and quicker kiss.

He touched my palm (covered in demon blood and dirt) to his cheek, then kissed that too.

"Such strength." He sighed.

Then disappeared.

I stayed with my hand hovering in the air like a stunned mullet. Then started to throw the world's biggest tantrum, pounding on the floor, screaming my head off at the boy with no name.


	22. Preparation

Moiranna is my Beta, and she is WONDERFUL, AMAZING and in all possible ways, EXCELLENT.

I'm so sorry this is so late. My internet was effing up and then my computer jumped on the band wagon.

TehOdd1 xoox

* * *

**Recap:**

I stayed with my hand hovering in the air like a stunned mullet. Then started to throw the world's biggest tantrum, pounding on the floor, screaming my head off at the boy with no name.

* * *

Master Vergil and I picked up the pieces from there.

Somehow, in a far more literal sense. I dragged myself over the shop looking for medical aid while he searched for weapons to salvage.

Trish was an absolute mess, sobbing hysterically into Nero's shoulder and trying to rip out her hair. Nero was shedding tears too, but wiping them away like we didn't see them.

Even when he knew we did.

He was trying to console her, saying reassuring things, but she either couldn't hear him or was ignoring him.

Dante was pacing around, sometimes glaring, sometimes swearing, other times picking fights with my master.

Surprisingly, he was disarmed, and calmed down, with in seconds.

Everyone's injuries were fading away – Nero's head wound was now completely invisible, and all the bruises Trish had collected whilst fighting the centaur were nearly gone.

I, however, was human.

When Dante finally announced we were going to Lady's, I had lost a lot of blood, was semi conscious, in grievous amounts of pain and hating life again.

I mean, I'd just come back from something a lot like heaven. This was pretty bad, in comparison.

I passed out a lot of the way, with my master carrying me to this, 'Lady's' house. I couldn't see for the pain, and my ears were still rather sensitive after the whole light show.

I couldn't stop thinking about the boy with no name. He was pale, too pale, and his eyes… it wasn't like they were white all the way through. He had a black ring around the outer layer, and had pupils. Normal, circular, pupils.

His lips… were so soft… and his kiss was… hungry, but not at all sexually. It seemed more of a desperate attempt to have contact.

But he, himself, was alluring – in that, he had something others did not. He radiated power, not unlike Sparda, or my master.

He wasn't somebody that lived: he was some _being_ that _was_.

When I was completely conscious, I was not alone, and it was raining outside the darkened street. I was on a singular, fold out bed, my thigh wrapped up tightly and a vital star sitting next to my head.

I made good use of it, trying to be as silent as humanly possible.

Trish was staring at a wall next to me on another singular foldout bed – the cheap ones you buy to go camping with once because you don't have the guts to sleep on the floor.

It was my master who was explaining – in a very sour tone of voice – what had happened to a woman who paced back and forward, not bothering to look at him.

"…I can only surmise that when we were separated, the King of Hell took the opportunity to attack. I think that he has taken my father and my mother, to open the seal to hell's gates."

"What about Dom and Max?" the woman asked, frowning at the floor. "They didn't have anything to do with Temen-Ni-Gru, did they?"

"Hostages." My master replied.

"Oh, I'm so glad to see you've thought this out." Dante snapped. "So what're we gunna do now, genius?"

My master rose his eyebrow. "I'm taking Rachel home." He said evenly. "If there's going to be a war, I would prefer to be on the winning side."

"What the hell does that mean?" Dante snarled, getting to his feet.

"It means," my master replied in a deadly tone. "that I am taking my prodigy, and I am going to lead the masses out of hell."

"You can't be serious." Nero said, dumbfounded.

"Oh no," the woman said. "He's serious."

"What about my kids?!" Dante exploded, throwing his hands in the air. "What about our parents? They're your family too!"

"They were dead, they came back, and now they're suffering the consequences." He said coolly. "They should've known better."

"I can't believe this!" Dante bellowed. "I can't believe you!"

"Well, you'd better start believing this, because it's entirely real." My master drawled.

He turned, saw me watching, and rolled his shoulders back, perhaps to try and roll the glare from the woman off of his shoulders.

"Rachel, we're going." he said, walking over to me and going to pick me up.

I moved away from his hands like they radiated heat, and put my poker face on.

"We can't just go." I said.

He blinked, processing, then narrowed his eyes.

"Yes, we can." He informed me dangerously.

"We can't, because I won't do that to Dante." I said firmly, pushing his hand away from my leg. "And I won't do that to Max."

"You will do as you're told-"

"I will do as I have learned." I cut him off. "You wanted me to learn from Dante? Fine. Here are my lessons – 1) Thou shalt not give up. 2) Thou shall eat all the pizza you can before Dante or Nero get their mitts on it, and 3), if not the most important lesson of all: Thou shalt not turn your back on family. Why do you think he really took me?"

He didn't say anything. Nothing was said by any other being in the room, and the only thing I could hear was the rapid beating of my heart in my ears.

This was the closest thing to 'no' I'd ever truly attempted to say. All I knew was, I wasn't going to move from this spot.

With, or… (what a horrible thought) without him.

"Verge…" Dante said, quietly. "It's mum and dad. It's my kids. It's your nephews. I don't think I can keep it together."

"No," my master sighed, straightening. "I don't think you can."

The woman looked at me with narrowed eyes, going for angry and falling dismally short.

"And this little brat would be?"

"This little brat," I replied coldly, sitting up a little straighter, "is the reason you have two more people on this particular mission. So it would be in your best interests to stick to 'Rachel' from now on, and for God's sake put some clothes on, Nero's getting flustered."

Nero's already partially red face went a little redder, and he glared at me, promising me death... Again.

I gave him a smug smirk and rolled out of bed, my master watching my movements like I could very well break.

The woman turned her nose up. I couldn't help but notice that her eyes were… Bi-coloured.

And she was in the littlest amounts of clothing: Trish flaunted her body, yes, but generally covered a lot of skin and left _something_ to be desired. The woman was in the tightest and shortest pair of shorts I have ever seen, and I wondered dimly why she bothered to even put them on at all.

"So, what do you propose we do?" the woman drawled, folding her arms across her chest. "Since you seem to have an answer for everything."

I cocked an eyebrow at her, cracked the kinks out of my neck, then stood tall and straightened my grey track pants and red t-shirt.

"I suggest that we figure out how many of the enemy there are," I said coolly. "If it's the king of Hell, then we'll need to be stealthy, which means we'll need someone to infiltrate and bring back a layout of his kingdom."

"Oh, naturally." The woman said, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, Dante, do we really need to listen to-?"

"Yes." Dante bit out, standing –_ looming_ – over the woman's tiny frame. "We are going to listen to her. She was there, Lady, she pulled Max out, and she did it with two gaping holes in her leg."

"Yes, she did." She snapped back. "And then she let him get taken again, didn't she?"

I felt like launching an airborne attack at her face. Instead, I let a quiet air slide between my teeth, and balled my hands into fists.

My master stood tall beside me.

"Perhaps you can tell us what you think we should do, _Mary_." He sneered.

She growled out her own, and glared at him, then Dante, in turn.

"Whatever. How are we going in?"

*Time Skip - The Next Day*

"…the portal should take us directly to mother – whether or not father will be with her is an entirely different matter," my master continued to explain, as I came in with his tea in the palm of my hand.

Nero's was in the other, along with my own.

Dante hadn't so much as looked at food in the last few days, and neither had Trish: both needed a shower, very badly, and Lady was the only one with the audacity to nag about it.

I took my seat on the floor, next to my master's knee, handing my tea to Nero, who sat beside him – though on an entirely different chair.

They mostly stuck to ignoring each other, though I caught my master glaring into the back of Nero's head more than once.

I sipped my tea, and listened to Lady prattling on about something or rather, nothing, as per usual. She'd opposed my master's every comment since we got here, and now she was refusing him his one idea.

The plan – my plan – was to open a portal and demand that the Gatekeeper let Dante and Trish through, while my master, Nero, Lady and I held open the four corners of the gate itself.

It had taken days to locate the right scrolls, and to prepare ourselves to stand in the gate's band.

My master explained it to me as if it were a giant elastic band, about as thick as a fist and made of pure energy. It would hurt us, and it would try to pull itself closed, but if it did, we'd be incinerated, or transported to Hell, missing limbs.

Or worse_… Entwined_.

Think the physical relocation of your limbs, organs, or soul. In another person's body.

Considering whom I was to hold the gate open with, and you have a 'small' and very serious crisis.

So I got to training, against Nero and my master, because they were the only ones who could do so. My training with my master was harder than normal – my training with Nero was fun.

It consisted of me and him wrapping rope around our torsos, then pulling apart. I sabotaged him relentlessly, and he tried to do it to me, in return: but he wasn't as strong as I was smart.

My master watched these interactions with a feral sneer on his face, when he thought I wasn't looking. Either that, or he wanted me to know just how much he despised the fact that I had to work so closely with the guy who killed me.

Now, as they talked Lady into the plan (again), I caught sight of something fluttering off of Lady's desk, then sliding over to sit next to me on the floor.

I cocked an eyebrow at it, then everybody in turn, and saw that nobody had cared, or noticed it. So, doing the only thing I could actually think of doing, I picked it up, and started to read:

"_Dear Ms Lady, _

_You have not returned any of my phone calls, but I suspect you've received the messages. _

_If you will not come in to discuss your sickness then I will inform you via letter of your choices._

_Upon the return of your test results I am saddened to inform you that they have come back positive for level three, Consumption. _

_Consumption was an untreatable disease back in the 1900's, but as technology has improved we have found a cure. _

_Unfortunately, the disease has since come a long way from it's most primal: in that it often hides it's symptoms._

_I believe, that the same demons you saved me from are the reason behind this. They are mutating it, and spreading it, as they somehow tried to inject it in me but got you instead._

_It is a deterioration of the lungs, Lady, it's very serious. _

_Although a cure is available, it comes to a grand total of 450,600 dollars, and consists of replacing your lungs completely. It is too far along to take medication, and I know you are short on money. _

_I suggest you come in, and we can work something out- you can pay in instalments, or get a loan, or something to that effect._

_Otherwise, I give you two months to live._

_I'm sorry I couldn't tell you in person, but you refused all contact and didn't leave a work address, for you always seem to be there when I come here._

_Kindest regards,_

_Lauren Shrimpton."_

"Are you dying, Lady?" I asked, in general concern, looking up from the paper.

She stopped talking abruptly and sent a shocked look down at me, her mouth open partly, as if some words where still on there way out.

She took a deep breath in, then was on top of me faster than I would've expected, knocking my scolding hot tea straight into my chest and ripping the letter out of my hands. She settled with a gun to my forehead, but I flipped her over my head, rolling to sit on top of her.

I knocked the gun away and it went off in my ear, missing me completely but still rendering me deaf.

I twisted her wrist and she opened her mouth as if to snarl, the gun's 'BANG!' echoing loudly in my ears. She spun the gun around, and I caught it with my other hand, being flipped to the side, then booted in the ribs.

I sucked up any air I could, then almost tore her arm off her body, one of my feet planted firmly on her side and the other on her neck.

My master dragged me away, whilst Nero held onto Lady, much like he had held onto Eva.

"What did I do?" I asked blankly, blinking up at him whilst he glared at Lady.

"I don't know." He said, for the first time in his life. "I've never understood women."

"You understand me." I pointed out.  
He looked over with a smirk on his face but dropped his eyes to my chest and looked frighteningly appalled.

"Can you not feel that?" he asked me.

"Feel what?" I shot back, cocking an eyebrow at where it was he was looking – then looked there myself.

When I saw it, I could feel it. The tea had burnt all of my upper, exposed, chest, sending it red, and in some places, oddly shiny.

I let out an amused: "Ow." And my master handed me a small green vital star.

"You use more vital stars than I have orbs." He pointed out as the green melted the red away.

I snorted. "Yes, I'm sure."

We looked over to see Lady throwing the letter high into the air, and shooting it to pieces.

Everyone watched as they all came settling down into the chair that Dante occupied – settling in his hair, in his coffee mug, and on his shoulders like a bad case of dandruff.

He picked them out of his cup and sipped.

"Well, Lady?" he said in a bored tone of voice. "Are you dying?"

"No." she snapped, aiming her weapon at him. "I won't die until every last –"

"Yeah, yeah, we know." Dante sighed, sitting back and propping his ankle on his other leg. "You won't die until every last demon in the world is dead. Right. So, are you cool that me 'n' Trish are going into hell then? Not goin' to be difficult now, are you Lady?"

And to that, what could she say?

Oh, that's right.

She gave him an angry: "Fuck you." And shot him in the head.

*Time Skip*

"Master Vergil..." I said, two days later when it was just him and I, sitting across from each other over a game of chess.

"Hm?"

"Where is Angelo?"

He stiffened, and moved his knight to take my bishop.

"He has probably retreated to the mountains." He muttered, placing my defeated bishop in his pile of steadily growing chess pieces.

"He just ran?" I asked bluntly, frowning as I moved a pawn to force his queen into a corner.

"Yes." He said quietly, doing as I wanted him to do. "He's done it before."

I looked up sharply.

"You knew?"

"Indeed." He said simply, raising his eyes to mine. I no longer felt the pain of his rejection, I just took it in stride, then blatantly ignored it, in favour of enjoying his company.

"What do you think of it?" I asked him, then added on a quick: "If it's alright, with you, I mean."

He frowned and sighed, linking his fingers together and propping them under his chin.

"I don't like it." He said quietly. "But I understand it."

"You do?" I blinked.

"I do." He confirmed, nodding once. "I don't know if you have realised, but Dante and I are a lot like our father and his brother, correct?"

"Yes, master."

"But have you put together that Dante has his wife and his children, and lets Lady and Nero stay at his home, while my uncle has nobody?"

I frowned. "But why doesn't he?" I asked. "I mean, he lives in the mountains. Shouldn't he know that he'll never find any one up there?"

"That's the point."

I blanched. "I don't understand."

He sighed. "He doesn't want to be found by any one else." He explained, simply. "He loved my mother the same way my father did. She had to chose. And she chose my father."

He tilted his head to the side, considering, before letting out a very quiet: "Like Trish. She chose Dante."

I spluttered.

"You…And…Her?"

"Once, a very long time ago." He said, seemingly amused at my reaction. "I was known to the world and underworld alike as Nelo Angelo, and she worked under the same demon I did. Naturally, we found each other."

"But she's…so…" I snorted, then hid my face, and spat out: "Not you!"

I could practically hear his eyebrow raising.

"And whom, exactly, would be 'me'?" he prodded.

"I…I don't know." I said hastily. "She wouldn't look like that, though, and she wouldn't talk like that, and she'd be…" I dropped my hands from my face and declared, "Refined."

He let out a small chuckle.

"So, wait… are you saying that you ran, after Trish chose?" I said, and he abruptly stopped chuckling.

He turned his gaze to the game, eyes sweeping over the board. I moved a pawn and he took it without a word.

"I didn't run." He said lowly, then motioned for me to continue.

I moved my knight, which was promptly taken, then another pawn, which ended up with the rest.

"I.. .retreated. She had made her choice, and Dante had never been as happy. Besides, I don't need her. I have you to take care of."

I felt my entire face soften. Something, a lot like love, flared in my chest as he sat there and squirmed under it, looking pointedly at the game.

"Rachel, you're in check." He said moodily.

I sent a smile at his head and moved my king with out a second thought.

"Check." I replied.

"Check." He shot back.

I grinned, then used my unsuspecting pawn to knock over his king.

"Check mate."

He looked over the game, then stood, his chair sliding back a few good feet.

He exited the room with out a backwards glance, and I sat there and revelled in the knowledge that he practically gave up love – or, something like that, he never did say that he loved her – to give me his knowledge. His training, and his power.

Nero walked in and challenged me to a sparring match.

I knew I would win before I'd even said 'yes'.

*Timw Skip - Four days later*

The day before we were due to open up hell, and Lady and Dante were having a screaming match. Something about him refusing to care, and something about her going soft in her old age.

As for me? I wasn't listening. I didn't like that kind of fighting. I'd never been subjected to it. I knew people fought like this all the time – hell, Trish and Dante did – but never like this.

Trish usually stuck to raising her voice, not all out screaming, like she was in furious amounts of pain. And he'd never quite bellowed back the way he was now.

I didn't want to hear it. I just belted the living crap out of the punching bag that weighed more than Nero did into a creaking, groaning, mess.

As I pelted it with kicks, I wondered why she wouldn't come clean about dying.

I knew one day I would die, and technically, I was dying, right as I ripped a seam holding the bag together with a perfect roundhousekick.

But she wouldn't admit it.

I found that weird.

Slowly, but surely, I found that I liked spending time with Nero. Even if it was just us fighting, or bickering, I didn't quite care. I liked being around him. I liked the challenge. The difference. The blatant, often stupid, declarations.

And I think my master knew.

He actually picked fights with him now. I didn't know why – I'd accepted my death and the person who had done it, but apparently, he wouldn't.

The screaming from both parties escalated, and I pummelled into the bag some more, finally placing a front kick on it so hard that it split in two and few into the wall behind it.

Satisfied, and slightly saddened I had nothing to take my anger out on, I turned to get myself a drink of water.

And there he was.

The boy with no name.

I didn't think, I just ran and launched myself at him, a kick aimed at his messy scruff of hair.

He smiled, and pushed my foot down slowly, catching me up against his body and holding my arms to my sides.

I was wearing a blue sports bra and a baggy pair of black track suit pants, so my body was pressed against the electric feel of his, skin on skin.

He wore an open shirt, with a high collar that smelt of starch. I took the time to notice his feet were bare, before he'd planted a kiss on my lips again.

It took one of his arms to hold mine down, and the other held the back of my head.

I pulled away, trying to wedge my knee between his to bring it up – but he slowed down my movements, Dante's roaring, and the echoing sound of footsteps as someone came to my rescue.

Or, tried to, anyway.

"Hello, Rachel." He beamed at me, his hands feeling my sweaty face and hair. "How are you?"

I couldn't answer, for obvious reasons, but he didn't seem to care.

"Why am I here? I'm here to deliver a message. But instead of bringing up my Column, I decided just to tell you to pass it on, okay?"

He must've let me go from whatever it was that he did, because my knee swung up but did nothing, for he had side stepped it to hug me from behind.

"Is that okay?" he said cheerily as I struggled.

I managed to land a blow to his gut with my elbow, then turn around with a raised fist: but he caught it, and made my entire body go lax.

He caught me, cradling me to his chest and stroking everything he could touch without being a pervert.

"Aw, Rachel." He sighed, a little sadly. "It's ok. I won't hurt you. But that's what I was told to tell you, see. My master says that he will kill all of you before the day is through."

Suddenly, from above, there was another kind of roaring. It didn't come from Dante.

Or anything particularly human.

I heard the distinct grunting of my master, followed by his blade against another kind.

Trying to speak was harder then it should've been, but I managed to get out: "Let me go."

"My master also says that, even if you do survive, the Gatekeeper has sworn his alliance and won't let any thing from the human realm pass."

I grunted.

"He also said that the boys are crying for their mother, but that isn't entirely true." He said with a small frown.

"Let me fight." I snarled.

To my surprise, he allowed me enough control to sit up, and push feebly at his arms.

"What have you done?" I squeaked.

"I gave you the strength of a normal fifteen year old girl," he said brightly, angling my head to see his face. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk to you!" I growled. "I want to go and I want to fight!"

"I just wanted to tell you something." He said, his eyes saddening. "Something I think you should know, and that my master didn't want you to."

I narrowed my eyes.

"How do I know you aren't going to lie?" I snapped. "I don't even know who – or what – you are!"

"I'm Lucifer's son." He said with a small smile. "My father was banished to hell, yes, but he escaped and fell in love with another higher being – she gave him me. I'm a full blooded fallen, the very first of my kind."

"And what is it you want with me, and my master?" I growled.

His eyes flared for a moment, turning from white to opaque.

"You have a master?" he said with a frown. "Do you want me to kill him?"

"No!" I exclaimed, horrified. I had never seen any threat my master couldn't take on, but something about this boy and his time manipulating abilities made me think twice.

"He's the only thing I have!"

"The boys cry for you too." He muttered. "You have them."

"Yes, I know I have them, but he's what I've had my entire life, you can't just-!"

The door flew off it's hinges, and Lucifer's son scooped me up, staring at the face of a rather enraged master Vergil.

"Now you've done it." I muttered to him, trying to pry myself away from him.

"He hasn't got a chance." He snorted, looking down at me with a smile.

My master started forward with his sword raised – a golden rope flew out of no where and bound him by the throat to the wall.

Several other golden ropes followed, latching down his arms, his legs and his chest. All of them started to squeeze.

"What are you doing?" I yelled, struggling against his grip.

"I'm going to kill him." He said simply, sitting down and holding me close to his chest. "Then you can come with me."

"What makes you think that?" I snapped. "_I don't like you_!"

"I know." He said, taking away more and more of my energy than necessary. "But you can learn to."

"The hell I can." I simpered – yes, I simpered – because there was nothing I could do but attempt to struggle and watch my master loose air.

"I have to tell you something." He said gently, pulling me close to his chest and running his hands over my back.

I just kind of – sagged against him. There wasn't anything else I could do.

"I had to tell you, that with Sparda's power, and Eva's combined, my master is going to take over earth and heaven. He's going to amplify his strength and her magic through his crystal, and then he's going to rule all."

"And the boys? What does he want them for?" I asked with a shaky voice.

"Hostages." He replied. "If you manage to live through today, and get past the Gatekeeper dome how, then you're going to have to either watch the kids die, or give up fighting, with them as your reward."

I sighed, my eyes shutting tightly.

"Can't you just kill him?" I murmured into his throat. "You're the most powerful thing I've ever met."

He smiled, and kissed my lips one more time.

"I could, but why would I?"

Then Nero tried to put a bullet in his head.

I was gently lain on the floor, Nero's bullets whizzing slowly towards us, then replenished with my usual strength.

I sat bolt upright, but the boy who I now knew to be the son of the fallen angel Lucifer, had already gone, and Nero's bullets sagged sadly in the air.

"Who the hell-?"

"Master Vergil!" I sprinted over to him and used Yamato to slice away the ropes confining him.

He fell onto one knee, then his eyes snapped up to mine.

"Why did you let him hold you so close?"

"I didn't," I said forcefully. "He drained me of my strength."

"Nonsense." He sneered, grabbing the back of my head. "No one demon can do that."

"Well _he_ did." I growled. "I don't even know his name, or what he finds so insistently attractive about me, but he has more power then I have ever seen."

"Vergil," Nero said firmly. "What about Dante and Lady?"

"They can wait." He snapped. "Why are you lying to me?"

"I'm not," I protested. "He just drained me, of all my energy, and gave me a normal teenage girl's instead-"

"Don't lie to me, Rachel."

"You can tell when I'm lying to you!" I exclaimed, as he tugged roughly on the back of my hair. "I'm not lying!"

He considered this. A ringing scream – a demon's scream – shattered the otherwise silence, and a dull 'thud' was heard.

Master Vergil dropped his hand from my hair and glared at me.

"Put a shirt on, and come upstairs as soon as you have." He snapped.

He would've slammed the door, if he hadn't have kicked it down.

"Is he always like that?" Nero asked.

I growled quietly to myself, trying to find my shirt.

"Always." I muttered on my way out.


	23. Dedicated to Laura

Moiranna is my Beta, and she is AWESOME and BEAUTIFUL and NINJA.

TehOdd1 xoox

* * *

**Recap:**

"Is he always like that?" Nero asked.

I growled quietly to myself, trying to find my shirt.

"Always." I muttered on my way out.

* * *

It was less messier than some of the fights Dante was prone to doing. Apparently Lady had been halfway through a screaming match when the ... _thing_, fell through the roof and tried to squash her. If it weren't for Dante, I was told by Nero, she'd be dead.

They stopped fighting after that. Trish had taken little notice of the demon thing, and zapped it when it sent Dante flying into a wall. It crumpled under the power of her hand.

My master Vergil was glowering at me when I came up with Nero so close to my heels. I just gave an impassive look and looked at the demon.

"I've never seen anything like that." I noted quietly.

"Yeah, me neither." Dante mumbled, coming to stand at my side.

The demon was lilac in colour and almost reptilian - with the general shape of a snake's body - except it's scales were feathers. They still looked scale like, but somehow softer. It's eyes were slitted, but instead of the traditional yellow, they were a magnificent blue.

It also had wings - which were bent and smoking faintly.

"Are you alright, kid?" Dante asked gruffly, squinting his eyes at me. "You look a lil' pale."

"I'm alright." I said reassuringly, with a small smile. "It's that boy."

His mouth tipped down at the corners. His raised an eyebrow at Nero.

I snorted.

"He wishes." I said, which earned me a shove in the shoulder. After glaring at Nero pointedly, I turned back to Dante. "The boy, from inside the light. He said that the Gatekeeper has made an alliance with the King of Hell not to let anything from the human realm in or out."

He frowned and made a small 'Hmm'.

"Did you get a name?" he asked.

"No - I got a parent and a species." I said, before looking up to my master. "Lucifer's son, with another fallen angel of some description. He's the first of his breed."

My master continued to glare, but said quietly: "Two holy beings, give unto the world a most dangerous child, born out of the sin they try to rid the world of."

There was a shocked pause. Then:

"Markus?" Lady said sharply.

My master nodded, his eyes still on me. "Indeed, the writings of Markus. Which means we now know, specifically, whom is running hell."

When Nero and I continued to look confused, he sighed shortly.

"Satan was the Devil, the Devil is a title?" he tried.

I blinked slowly, remembering.

"He was the first to go down and bring order and democracy to Hell," I repeated from memory. Then I felt a little sick - "But it can't be!"

"It clearly is." he snapped, folding his arms across his chest, in a finalising signature of my stupid outburst.

"Wait, what?" Nero blanked.

Trish looked green. Dante went over and held her close to his chest.

"Nero, you idiot," I groaned, turning to him. "You worked in Fortuna and didn't raid the Order's library?"

He scowled. "Why would I?"

"Possibly because they have written works that are magically sealed to last hundreds of years!" I exclaimed, before sighing. "Markus was - as far as anyone can tell - a hunter of some description. He wrote all sorts of things that came true - and are still coming true - not to mention how to kill and identify thousands of demons. In his most prominent work, he explained that Satan and the Devil used to be the same thing, but then Satan was overthrown by one of his children. Actually, I think it was a daughter, if we're going to be specific."

"We're not." he assured me.

I took a deep breath. "Markus wasn't just a hunter - he was an educator, a saviour, and his power was near infinite. The only reason I had to study him was his writings was because my master appreciated him - and for my master to appreciate some one else's teachings...Well..." I shrugged. "It's a big deal."

"I don't get it." Nero said, looking around finally. "What's this old bat got to do with anything?"

"Markus lived somewhere between the first Devil and the taking over from his daughter." I explained hastily. "He predicted, specifically, her downfall to another sister, who would be overthrown by a 'cousin' - if you will. That cousin was scheduled to never be de-throned. Ever. He would be the most powerful Devil of all time, and he would rule all four plains - Earth, Hell, Heaven and Limbo."

Nero's eyebrows flew high onto his skull.

"That's bad."

"Understatement of the year." Lady mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

Nero turned to me. "So, we can't beat this...cousin?"

I dipped my head away from his eyes.

"That's what Markus wrote - and so far, the only time he's been wrong, is when he predicted that the tower of Temen-Ni-Gru would come up short and not be able to be used."

"Well we all know _that_ happened." Dante said bitterly.

My master Vergil turned his nose up smugly. "That's because I am far beyond predictions and fate."

Nero snorted, and I tried very hard not to roll my eyes.

Dante turned to me, with saddened eyes. It was not a look I liked on him. "My kids, Rachel." he rumbled, his voice reverberating throughout the entire room.

I gave him a waning smile. "I know, Dante. I didn't say I was giving up just yet."

"But I did." my master interjected angrily. "We are leaving."

"But I don't want to leave-"

"I don't care. You _will_ do as your told." my master said, narrowing his eyes at me.

"I will do as I have learn-"

"You will not!" He bellowed, and I flinched.

When had he ever yelled at me? When had he ever needed to?

"You will accompany me back to our home and we will raise wards over the property. You will not go into this and fight."

"The hell I won't." I snapped.

Now, imagine this.

...

...

...

A very _angry_ master Vergil.

That's all I really needed to say. His eyes were flashing - literally getting brighter as he narrowed them - and as well as I knew him, I'd never seen his canine teeth protrude from his mouth quite like they did now.

I was half hidden behind Nero, trying to be firm, though if he started yelling, I was going to bolt. The look in his eyes... It was nothing like I'd ever seen before, and Goddamnit, it was scary.

"Get in the car." he growled out.

I chewed on the inside of my lip, sinking behind Nero some more, casting a look at Dante. He turned hateful eyes from my master, to put them gently over me.

"Just go, babe." he said quietly. "It's okay."

My mouth moved in protest but the words wouldn't be voiced. I was torn between fear, whom I loved, my duty, and the people I wanted to protect. To fight for. Live and lie for.

Isn't that what Nero had said love was?

Specifically?

"_Circumstances change, master." _I said quietly, in Latin.

_"Why are you suddenly defying me?" _he growled. "_There's no confusion, Rachel, get in the car_."

"_I can't just leave them. I love them_."

To that, he snorted.

"Love." he repeated bitterly, then shook his head chuckling. "_You are fifteen years old, what would you know of love?"_

_"I know as I have learned. I asked Nero, who told me about love, and what it was like to love. And I may be a mere fifteen, but what happens when I am twenty? Or when I am fifty? Will I be old enough to love then?"_

"_No_." he said shortly. "_Grow_ _to my age, and then you have permission to love."_

I stopped backing away. I stood my ground firmly, took Nero's (rather impressive) bicep in my hand, and glared at my master.

"_Love isn't about permission."_ I said lowly. "_And if I choose to love, so be it, who are you to make me do otherwise?"_

I heard his teeth cracking under pressure, and my grip on Nero's arm tightened somewhat.

"I am the man who brought you up." he ground out. "I gave you a strength that normal humans would die for. I gave you a knowledge that normal humans would like to think they have. I gave you skills even demons want. I gave, and I gave, and I gave, Rachel. That is who I am, to tell you otherwise."

I just pulled my poker face on.

"I have lived with Dante and Trish for three weeks." I whispered. "With the kids always underfoot and Nero's rather insistent bickering."

He shifted uncomfortably. I didn't relinquish my grip.

"And they have taught me more than you ever have. They taught me how to feel. They taught me love, and laughter, and how to harness all of that to make a better fight. For God's sake, I was taught to enjoy _food_." I almost laughed, a pitiful show, and Dante's frown quaked at the edges.

"_Please." _I continued quietly, in Latin. _"I have to fight for them. And I have never asked for anything in my life, but I'm asking you for this. Stay. Fight with us."_

_"You say 'us'," _he said dryly. _"Your Latin is rusty. You mean 'them'."_

_"There is nothing wrong with my Latin. I mean 'us'."_

He scowled.

"You are too much like me." he declared bitterly.

Nero made noises of protest but I tugged his arm sharply, gaining his attention, and shaking my head.

"She is, weather you want to compare the way she speaks or the way she fights. Ultimately, she is far too much like me, in that she always gets what she wants." He narrowed his eyes at me - I felt a great weight lifting off my shoulders.

"We will stay, and fight. On one condition, and one only." he raised his pointer finger, and jabbed it at me. "We leave when I say we leave."

I frowned. "But-"

"No, we will fight, alright, I submit defeat - Once, if ever -" he rolled his eyes. "But if I say it is too dangerous, then _we_ are _leaving_. Do you understand me, Rachel? I will break your legs, and _drag_ you back home if I have to."

I rolled my eyes at the analogy, and strode forward to grip his hand and shake it.

"Alright." I said, repressing the happy smirk off of my face.

Or, trying to, anyway.

He narrowed his, and tugged me forward so that our cheeks were touching - and I could _feel _the glare he directed at Nero.

"And stay away from that boy."

I could do little but feel elated that he cared enough to say so.

****

So the Gatekeeper idea was out, as Lady kept repeating, and rubbing in my face. I turned around and pointed out that she was dying.

She blew off the spare room to her house.

So now, Nero and I were confined to the lounge, Dante, Trish and -embarrassingly enough - my master Vergil, were all in the same room, in the same bed, because neither man would take the floor and they insisted that Trish had some part of bed.

Dante was in the middle.

Lady was on a fold out bed in her study. A rickety, thin old thing she announced was the most comfortable item of bedding she had ever owned.

Then flipped me off, and went to go rest.

I could hear heated muttering from the bedroom the twin brothers occupied, occasionally Trish - and tried to catch what they were saying.

"So. What was with that, yesterday?"

"What?" I opened my eyes and looked down at him. I was on the couch, on my back, with my head on the arm, whilst he lay on his stomach, on the floor. His hands...claws...were clasped in front of him, making a triangle with the fore part of his arms.

"You...kinda...touched me. When you were talking to Vergil - you had your hand on my arm. What was that about, exactly?"

I frowned at him slightly, then shifted and closed my eyes, turning my head to the roof.

"Just go to sleep, jackass."

"Just answer the question first."

"Shut up, Nero."

From the bedroom, I heard: "...You have _no idea, _the repercussions of that insinuation, Dante..."

"No seriously." Nero pestered.

"Seriously." I snapped back, turning to face the back of the couch. "Shut up."

Again, from the bedroom, a voice that could only belong to Trish: "...just saying, Vergil -"

"Well don't say anything," my master quipped bitterly. "I don't want to hear it."

"Rachel, why are you so mature some times, and so stubborn the next?!" Nero asked hotly, apparently on his knees, breathing down my neck. "I mean, you grow up with Vergil, for Christ's sake, the first time we met you kissed me to get the upper hand - sometimes you're such a goddamn smartass, I bet my last dollar you didn't pick that up from _him_, and what about that speed of yours? Humans don't learn speed, they learn strength, are you telling me he picked the only human in the world fast enough to best any given demon-"

I snarled and turned tackling him to the floor, slamming a hand over his mouth. He tried to dislodge me, but I shushed him with a harsh: "They're talking about us."

He stopped, and cocked his head - I became aware that if someone where to walk in, we'd be unable to explain both our proximity and position.

"...chemistry?" my master asked blankly. "What chemistry?"

"Between them," Dante was explaining. "Bro, I know you're slow on the updates of luuurve, but _geeze_."

"Vergil, just listen to the facts." Trish was saying gently, so softly Nero and I both strained closer to the door to hear. "If anything, the facts have always intrigued you."

"We shouldn't have to deal with this now, Trish." my master growled quietly. "Not before one of the biggest wars known between the plains."

"They haven't had anyone, their entire lives, to even look at with the possibility of something more." Trish continued in that same, soft tone. Like a mother explaining to her child that their loved ones were never coming back.

Or, at least, that's how it sounded to me.

"Nero was outcasted by his arm - Rachel was just outcasted, in a more literal sense. They have been brought up to fight far better than anything else - and now they have to fight each other. They're both at that age-"

"He's five years her senior." my master cut in sharply. His voice sounded strange.

"You have eighty years on me," Trish retorted coolly.

I waited for Dante to ask what they were talking about, but he stayed un-characteristically quiet.

"They think that... We..." Nero spluttered under my palm. I hushed him and strained to hear again, but this time he wouldn't be quietened.

"No. No friggin' way. Ew. You're like...Ten." he shuddered.

I glared. In a heated whisper, I spat back: "I'm fifteen, dumbass! He said five years her senior, which means you are older than me by five years, if 'senior' is a little too mature for you to handle."

"It's not." he growled back, though quietly this time. "I was talking about how old you look."

"Well you suck, now shush!"

"No!"

"Nero!"

"Rachel! Ray-Ray! Rach! Oo, whacha gunna do, kid?"

I hit him hard across the face, is what I did.

He pushed me up and back onto the couch, his weight almost suffocating me.

I growled and kicked up, sending him up and off me with a single kick.

"Shush, Nero!"

I looked towards the door, behind which my master and Trish had gone as quiet as Dante had.

"Do you think they could hear us?" I heard Trish whisper.

"Probably. Listening was one of the first lessons I ever taught her." My master replied in a mutter. There was a pause, in which Nero opened his mouth and I shoved a pillow in there.

He glared.

I returned to listening.

"Trish. We both know something between us was…evident, in hell."

"Yes, Vergil, the amount of sex you subjected me to was phenomenal."

I blanched. Nero 'Ewww'ed.

"So on that note… If you were never told to go and – I believe the term used was 'mess with', my brother, would we…" he stopped abruptly. "Never mind."

"You want to know if there could've been a 'we'." She asked softly.

I sagged against the couch as I heard him sigh.

"Yes." He admitted, a bit aloof. "I do."

He was so…And she was…

"This isn't right." I muttered bitterly.

Nero kneeled next to me with a completely confused expression. "They…?"

"Yep."

"In hell?"

"Yep."

"Phenomenal sex?"

"No, just a lot of it, Nero."

"…Oh."

I heard a thump but ignored it, straining to hear the soft breaths of my master.

"I think you would've gotten tired of me." She said gently. "That was my biggest fear about you. Because if you tired of me, you'd more than likely kill me, or ignore me."

"And that's the worst thing that might've happened in hell?" he said amusedly.

She laughed quietly. "Think of who you are, Vergil, and then what I am."

"God, don't inflate his ego." I muttered to Nero, who snickered.

"Indeed." My master said. "But I don't think I would've tired of you."

"Don't lie," Trish whispered. "It's not good on the soul."

"I would tire of her." Nero said bitterly. "Always yelling and friggin' PMSin'-"

I launched myself at him and slammed his head into the floor.

"How many-" Lift and slam. "-Times do I-" lift and slam. "-have to tell you-" lift and blam! "-to SHUSH?!" lift and CRUNCH!

Dante, whom was conveniently hiding behind the door, dragged me off of him, and got into between us again.

"YOU LITTLE MIDGET!"

"I'M NOT A MIDGET!"

"YOU'RE A BLOODY SHORT ASSED MIDGET, AND YOU BROKE MY GODDAMN NOSE, _AGAIN_-!"

"SUCK IT UP, MURDERER!"

He deadpanned.

"Ouch, Rachel."

I sneered.

"Like I said_, killer_," I snarled against Dante's arms. "Suck it up."

Nero didn't give me any comebacks, and he didn't attack. He just kinda, _sagged_, and sat on the couch, his face as neutral as Nero's face gets.

"Ouch, kiddo." Dante said gruffly, hefting me away from the boy.

I didn't understand. At all. Not one bit. He was such a baby - he cried almost every night, and shut himself down when I merely pointed out that technically, he was a murderer, even though I was well and whole.

Dante set me down in Lady's room, which she obviously didn't like, but put up with. We shared the tiny, single, rickety bed, because she refused the couch and I refused the floor.

My master came in just to make sure I was okay - even if he just swept his eyes over all the vital organs in my torso - and went back to his room.

Dante asked what they had talked about when he was sneaking around, listening to us, and Trish was quick to reply: "Cheese."

I woke up half way through the night with Lady shivering into my side, her tiny arms around my waist and whispering to someone who wasn't there.

I pushed her off and went downstairs, taking the couch with my back facing Nero.

He had his eyes closed, but he wasn't sleeping.


	24. Dedicated to MiriMOO!

Okay, it was my birthday last Tuesday, I'm sorry I haven't been posting, I love you all - I blanked massively on the story line though. Back to regular posts on Tues, next week.

TehOdd1 xoox

* * *

**Recap:**

I woke up half way through the night with Lady shivering into my side, her tiny arms around my waist and whispering to someone who wasn't there.

I pushed her off and went downstairs, taking the couch with my back facing Nero.

He had his eyes closed, but he wasn't sleeping.

* * *

I knew I was dreaming, but somehow, I couldn't believe it to be true - the settings, the smells, what I felt, what I tasted - it was all too real for me to wake up.  
I was four years old.  
"Mama," I said brightly, looking excitedly, back and forth, between her and the window. "Mama, Mama, are we there yet?"  
"Yes, darling," she sighed happily. "Calm down, Ray-Ray, I just have to find a place to park."  
She flicked her short, cropped hair away from her eyes, and looked over at Mummy, her girlfriend.  
"Babe, is Justin asleep?" she murmured, but I hear, because I had really good hearing back then, even though the radio was on and I wanted to go and ride the rides, I heard her ask.  
Justin was my big brother. He was fifteen, and I adored him. I'd do anything for him. But, sometimes he came home with smelly bottles of amber drinks in his hands, and he'd fight Mama and Mummy, and then he'd yell. I didn't like those bottles of amber drink, but he said that they took all of the pain out of his life.  
Mummy looked around to see Justin had his walkman on, and glaring furiously out of the window. She sighed, less happily then Mama did, and prodded his knee.  
He wrenched it away and turned his glare to her.  
"Justin," she warned. "Could you please pretend to be a little bit happy, for your sister?"  
I turned around to him, almost bopping in my seat. "Aren't you happy we's at the fair?" I asked him, slightly mollified.  
"No." he said, yanking a speaker from his ear. "I don't want to be here with them." he growled out to me, glaring at Mummy.  
She glared back, and Mama pulled into a free car space, then turned around in her seat.  
"Justin, please," she said gently, her blue eyes matching his own stubborn ones. "Be good?"  
He growled, but didn't say anything. He just kicked open the door and said: "C'mon, Ray-Ray."  
Mummy had to unclip my special big girl seat, and then I took off after him, latching onto his hand, even though at the start, he tried to shake me off.  
"Can we go on da bumper cars?" I asked him, throwing my head back just to see his face. "I wanna get some lolly floss-"  
"-Fairy floss," he corrected with a small smile at me. "In my family, it's fairy floss."  
I grinned, and tried to wrap my hand in his, but I could only manage to hold one finger. He had big hands, compared to mine.  
"I like fairy better than lolly, any way," I said happily, almost skipping beside him. "It sounds better!"  
"Yeah, I guess it does." he said looking around. "Okay, Ray-Ray, where are we going first? There's an animal farm over there, if you like?"  
"YEAH!" I almost yelled, causing a few people to stare, and him to face palm. "Yeah, I wanna touch a LLAMA!"  
He laughed as I dragged him along, and for the first hour, we sat and tried catching chickens, patting bunnies, and he even got me a sneaky ride on the back of a llama. Then we got kicked out, but we did it laughing.  
He picked me up and swung me onto his hip, snickering.  
"Kid, you crack me up."  
"Does it hurt?"  
"Does what hurt?"  
"I cracked you up."  
He just laughed again.  
"C'mon, Ray-Ray, how about we go to Mama, and get some money, and we'll go get some fairy floss, huh?"  
"YEAH!" I yelled again.  
He swung me down and I grabbed his hand, this time, without him pushing me away.  
We got our money and we got our fairy floss. Sitting down on a seat at the beach with our backs to the fair, I looked at him sadly, watching as he devoured his blue fairy floss.  
"Hey Justin."  
"Mm?"  
"How come you hate Mummy?"  
He stopped eating so enthusiastically. In fact, he just stopped eating, and threw the nearly empty cone in the general direction of the trash. It missed, but he didn't even pick it up.  
"Because," he said dejectedly. "She makes my life hell."  
"How come?" I pressed, fiddling with my sweets.  
He sighed a little angrily, and looked at me, almost glaring. "Because she makes it hell, ok?" he said, narrowing his eyes at me. "She waltzes into my mum's work, she breaks her and my dad up, she gets me teased and beaten - I swear, I whish I could kill her, Ray, that's how angry she makes me."  
I sunk back in my chair and turned leaking eyes onto the spun sugar in my hands. Incidentally, the one melting all over the place.  
He sighed again, and put his arm around my shoulders.  
"I'm sorry I got mad, Ray-Ray," he said softly. "I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it."  
"You said she gets you beat." I mumbled. "But I never seen 'er beat you up, Justin."  
He sighed again and kissed my forehead, rubbing my arm for warmth as the wind rolled right off the sea.  
He open his mouth to speak, when out of no where, he was pushed off the seat by a gang of guys, and I was on my feet.  
"Whatareyoudoing?" I squeaked, as one of them sunk a foot into his gut.  
"Mama's boy," they sung. "Mama's boy, Mama's boy."  
"HEY!" I yelled. They stopped, and all eyes turned to me. "WHATAREYOUDOING?!"  
"We're going to beat up this little fag," hissed one, and he took a swig out of a bottle like the ones Justin some times came home with. He looked to be at least twenty years old. I stood up on the seat.  
"YOU'RE DRUNK!" I yelled, throwing clenched fists back. I didn't really get it, but Mummy yelled it at Justin when he drank that, so I did too.  
He looked around at the group and laughed.  
"IT ISN'T FUNNY!" I kept yelling. "GIMME MY JUSTIN BACK!"  
"Naw, such a cute kid." drawled the twenty year old, grabbing my by the back of my dress and hurling me forward onto the sand. He dragged me up to my feet.  
Justin said a lot of naughty words, and some I didn't even know, struggling on the ground. He was kicked and told to shut up.  
I started to get scared.  
"Is this your girlfriend, Jason?" he cooed.  
"JUSTIN!" I yelled at him, wriggling about. "IT'S NOT JASON, YOU DUMB SHIT!"  
I didn't know that word either, but apparently it wasn't very good, because the guy threw me and ripped my shirt. I fell on Justin's belly, and he made a sound like: "Oomph!"  
"Little midget bitch." he mumbled, as the gang all laughed around him.  
"LEAVE US ALONE!"  
"No, we're gunna teach this bitch here to keep his lesbo loving bitches outta town, so they don't dirty up the place-"  
"Shut up about my mother!" my brother hissed, sitting up and putting me behind him. "Shut up, you mother fucking lunatic!"  
He got beaten up so bad his nose wasn't straight any more. There was blood everywhere. It took three guys to hold me back.  
"RAY- GO!" I screamed. "HELP! HELP! LEAVE MY BROTHER ALONE!"  
"Run," Justin wheezed, and I could only hear him because I had good hearing, above the sound of the sea and the yells and the fair. "Run, Ray-Ray!"  
I elbowed one in the groin - it was squishy and gross. I swung my leg at the other one's shins, and he toppled over, another bottle of amber tumbling out of his hands. The last one let go to try and scoop me up, but I hit him like I saw the twenty year old do and ran like mad.  
"MAMA!" I yelled, pelting along the sand, towards the pier, where I'd last seen my mother. "MAMA!"  
I thought I heard them comming after me. So instead of stopping at the pier, I kept running. One of the only times my hearing has ever failed me. All I heard that day was the sound of fear hanging heavy in the air.  
I bolted, and fell, a broken bottle slicing up my palm. I made a noise of pain, but didn't really feel it. I just got up and hung a left, running out over a raised platform directly over the ocean water. It was close enough to hang your feet in if you sat down.  
Thunder clapped over head - I stopped running, finally tumbling onto my knees and pant-sobbing into the wood.  
It took me a few seconds to recover, then I turned, and bit my cheek, dunking my cut hand into the water.  
I yelped and yanked it out again - that's when I heard him.  
He was just barely breathing, a little aways from me, sitting on a seat, looking out of the sea. His eyes where half lidded, but a magnificent blue, like Justin's.  
I stood up and shakily went over to him, standing there until he turned his half dead eyes onto me.  
"What." he said blandly, like I'd interrupted something very personal.  
"Do you have a band aid, sir?" I asked, polite through my various gasps and wheezes.  
"A what." he dead panned.  
"A band aid." I repeated, then sniffled. "I hurt my hand, see?" and shoved it under his nose.  
He leaned back and glared half heartedly at me.  
"Don't children cry when they get hurt?" he asked shortly.  
"I'm not a child," I said defencively. "I'ma big girl."  
"So go and fix the wound yourself." he said, leaning his head back. "And let me die in peace."  
"Don't die!" I said, shaking his shoulder with my good hand. "I need your help, sir, my brother is gettin' beat up real bad, see, and I got a cut and I need'ta find my mums!"  
He rolled his eyes open and turned them on me.  
"In my front coat pocket," he said angrily, "There is a green star. Get it out."  
"Okee." I said, and clambered onto the seat next to him to reach his shirt. "Pee-u, dude, you smell like burning hair." I commented, digging my good hand around in his only visable pocket.  
He glared half heartedly again.  
"Use it."  
"Uh...What is it?" I said, weighing it in my palm.  
"It's a vital star." he said through his teeth.  
"How'd I use it?"  
He sighed through his nose and snapped his head up.  
"Little girl," he said, his eyes flashing. "You put it over your heart. Now, go away and let me die." He let his head drop back onto the chair.  
I frowned at his almost dead face and looked at the star in my hands. Then, gently, placed it over his chest and watched as it lit up and sunk in.  
He sat up abruptly.  
"What did you do?"  
"I gave you the shiny star." I said, still frowning. "I can't let you die, I need help, dude."  
"I am not a 'dude'." he snapped, and rubbed where the star had sunk into his chest. "And now I have to live. Perfect. I surmise Integra will be entirely happy about that fact."  
"Yeah," I said, then slid off the seat. "C'mon, dude, I need your-"  
"I am not a dude." he growled, and narrowed his eyes at me.  
I sunk back into the chair.  
"Okee." I whispered. "So, do you have a name?"  
"Of course I have a name!" He snapped, standing up abruptly. "Go and find your mother, or father, or whomever takes care of you." he said, straightening his jacket from where I'd messed it up.  
"I dun have a dad." I said quietly. "I have two mums, though."  
He paused, and raised an eyebrow at me. "Two mothers?"  
"Yeah," I said, wincing at the pain in my hand. "They're gay, which means that two girls love each other, and my brother says...Oh, no, Justin!" I sprang up again but he sat me back down forcefully and pulled out another shiny star.  
"Hold still!" he commanded, and I did as I was told. I always did as I was told. He fixed up my hand, and then tied the parts of my shirt together while it was still healing.  
I blinked at him.  
"Thank you." I said.  
He stared intently back at me as thunder bellowed over head.  
"I suppose, you're welcome." he said blandly, then frowned. "Have you been fighting someone?" he asked abruptly. "Your knuckles where bruising."  
I dropped my head. "Yeah-"  
"Say 'yes'," he corrected. "Not 'yeah'."  
"Okee."  
"And 'yes, sir', instead of that infernal word." he muttered, his eyes pinning mine.  
"Yes, sir." I said, then shifted under his gaze and looked at the place where I'd only moments ago been hurt. "I did fight. I wasn't very good. I think they were drunk." I mumbled.  
"Explain." he said shortly.  
Reluctantly, I did.  
I didn't realize how cold it had gotten. Or the storm that had been brewing above me.  
"They?" he asked, kneeling down to my height.  
"Yes, sir." I said sadly. "I whish I was better. I wanted to protect my brother... Buh...I think... I think he's better off without me."  
I can't really remember what happened next. There was a really long pause, though, I remember the awkwardness.  
"I have just come back from a place called Hell," he said randomly, in a very plain voice. "And whilst I was there, I was told I would die and leave nothing unto this world. I want to, though." he said, then frowned at his hands before shoving them into his coat and looking up again, at me. "I want to leave something. If, I should in fact, die. If I can't have the world...I don't like babies, and frankly, cannot stand the thought of them, or their mothers." He stopped again. Tilted his head, his face blank.  
"Would you like to learn to fight properly?"  
My eyes went wide. "Yes, sir!"  
"Then come with me." he said. "To live. And I will teach you everything I know."  
"Like fighting?"  
"Like fighting."  
"Can Justin come too? My brother? Can he come?" I asked hopefully, sitting up dead straight.  
He paused. "No."  
"Then I ain't commin'." I said, and sat back against the bench, crossing my arms over my chest.  
There was another pause, then he leaned forward so his head took up all my veiwning space.  
"You said he'd be better off without you." he murmured.  
It gets weird here, as most dreams do. None of the following ever happened, if you couldn't tell. All a dream, not a sleeping memory.  
He picked me up, and dunked me in the water with my shoulders above the lapping waves, and I couldn't breathe.  
I was struggling, trying to break the ocean's embrace on my head and mouth but it wouldn't let me, I sobbed for it to let me go, it came out as a whisper, and master Vergil let me go, and I was drowning, yes, I was drowning because he hadn't taught me how to swim yet - oh, God, I was going to die, I let out another whisper, a pleading moan: "Save me, please, no, don't, I can't fight something like this, I can't fight it, I can't fight it-"  
And then I was awoken.

"Rachel-"  
I cut off his air supply with my arms, wrapped tightly around his throat.  
He patted my shoulders lightly, then wheezed: "Uh, air?"  
I loosed the grip, but I didn't let go.  
My heart was beating so hard it was all I could hear, except for the way Nero breathed against my shoulder. I felt sweaty, and probably was, and shook as Nero touch my shoulder again.  
"What the hell are you dreaming about?" he whispered.  
"Your face." I shot back, in another whisper.  
"Yes, well, my face does reduce most of the women that pass me into a shivering, shaking, wet mess, but I never pinned you to be one of them."  
That rose a chuckle out of me, but it was extremely forced.  
I squeezed my eyes shut and touched the back of his head with the very tips of my fingers, pulling them through the soft strands. He stopped, just - stopped - for a moment, before the light pats on my shoulders were all out strokes along my spine.  
"Don't worry, kid," he mumbled against my shoulder. "I got you."  
And with those three, one syllable words...Nero just about broke me. Never had I second guessed my master's abilities to save me, but any admission was indirect, and any hints that he would in fact, do such a gallant act, were either extremely subtle, or non existent.  
"I'm sorry." I whispered, and turned my nose into his throat. "I'm so sorry, I keep bringing up the murder thing, I know it was an accident - but you just piss me off so bad-"  
"The feeling's mutual." he murmured, and cupped the nape of my neck with his human hand, drawing me ... if possible... closer to his chest. "It's okay, Rachel."  
The heat from his demon arm was like nothing I'd ever felt before. I could compare it to the first time Sparda and I had shaken hands, but it was nowhere near so intense.  
It was more like...Licking a battery? On my spine? :S  
The feel of it was almost metallic, but it thrummed with power. I drew in a deep breath and ordered my heart to shut the hell up with all of the banging. It was getting on my nerves.  
"You said you couldn't fight." Nero said, his voice low and throaty. "What was it you couldn't fight?"  
I stilled for a moment, then continued stroking out his hair, and inhaling the glorious scent that just simply was Nero - it wasn't human, it wasn't demon, it wasn't anything otherworldly.  
Just Nero, and the way his hand was humming.  
"If I told you, you would use it against me." I mumbled.  
He moved his human hand up, to the top of my skull, and pushed all the hair away from my face, looking down with a small, unsure, smile.  
"Never." he promised. "I'll let you castrate me if I do."  
The thought was amusing, if not disturbing as all hell, and I chuckled weakly at it.  
"Water." I said finally. "I'm scared of water. Swimming, I suppose." I mused quietly. "Master Vergil taught me how to swim, but I...I can't fight water, Nero. It isn't a solid, bodily thing, something you can glare down or hurt or threaten or cheat. If water wants to get in your lungs, it's going to get in there."  
He held my gaze for a moment, his lower lip breaking away from his upper, a small breath escaping him.  
"I'm scared of my arm." he said gently. "I'm scared I'll loose control, cause another death. I can't help it, sometimes, the power, it builds up - gets too much. I'm scared that I'm more demon than I am human. I'm scared that when I need that demon power...when worse comes to worse... I won't be able to protect the people in my life." he said, then tapped my nose with his human hand. "Even you." he said.  
I leaned away and swept up his aforementioned demonic hand, pressing it between my two palms.  
"This -" I said sternly, looking at him fiercely. "Is a gift. And that power builds up because you let it. You own this, Nero, not anybody else, just you." I spread out his fingers and pushed my hand against it.  
"It wouldn't be humanoid if you weren't more human than demon." I scolded quietly.  
We just sat - Nero's thighs either side of mine and me whishing he'd do something other then just stare and lick his lips.  
Not that I wanted him to do anything with his lips. Just talk with them. Maybe.  
"Must be a night for bad dreams, huh?" Lady said with a yawn, shoving a cup of coffee at the both of us and then bustling off.  
I don't know when she's listened to us, or what she'd heard, or seen, but I was thankful for the diversion. I sipped my coffee, deemed it disgusting, sat it down and mumbled something I didn't even know, ending with the word: "Shower."


End file.
